


Counting the stars at our fingertips

by schierlingsbecher



Category: Deadpool - All Media Types, Marvel, Spider-Man - All Media Types
Genre: -Ish, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Angst, Bullying, Falling In Love, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Peter doesn't want that though, Peter's POV, Slow Build, Slow Burn, Spideypool - Freeform, Underage - Freeform, Wade's family is poor, protective!wade, they're both underaged
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-19
Updated: 2016-12-13
Packaged: 2018-03-18 14:59:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 15
Words: 34,147
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3573980
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/schierlingsbecher/pseuds/schierlingsbecher
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Peter is 14 and the victim at his new high school. Wade, 16 and school's most known bully, falls in love with the cute boy with the black eye.</p><p>(It's starts off as a cliché, but give me a little time for character development)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Minique](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Minique/gifts).



> This is both; your prize and my thanks, my lovely girl - I am so much less without you that I want to say I am nothing at all ♥
> 
> It's been a long time coming, but I finally have a rough plan and some ideas.
> 
> Attention: Please note the "display of violence"-tag and the fact that I'll add other tags with the story going on.
> 
> English is not my first language, so wonderful [Minique](http://miniquie.tumblr.com/) saves me on regular basis. Reviews are very welcome to improve my storytelling- and writing-skills, no matter if you liked or didn't like my story. Thanks in advance ♥
> 
> P.S.: If anybody feels like taking a pic/drawing a cover for this, contact me, I'll offer my ideas (:

In case anyone ever asked him what superpower he wanted, Peter Parker knew exactly what he’d answer: invisibility. The ability to disappear from sight in the blink of an eye and to reappear whenever he wanted. Like Violet from _The Incredibles_. Peter knew this for certain because for most people, he already was invisible.

He was small for his age, skinny, quiet, and a little shy. His hair was brown; not chocolate or coffee - just brown, somehow messy almost all of the time and his glasses were an ever present feature, perched clumsily on the bridge of his nose. Even twenty years after the first Harry Potter book, girls obviously weren’t really into that kind of thing. Not that he really cared, but he couldn’t help noticing.

Peter knew that his whole appearance was just plain normal, and even if his parents and his aunt and uncle loved him with everything they had, even for them he was just an average fourteen-year-old. Since that didn’t mean they cared less for him and there was nothing wrong with being ordinary in Peter’s opinion, he was okay with it.

Also, with people not minding him, he was offered the chance to wander around the neighborhood undisturbed; he could check out the high trees in backyards, and the birds and squirrels hiding in the bushes along his way home or sitting on fences. And he liked to watch people. He loved taking snapshots, and when nobody paid any real attention to him, nobody posed or pulled faces for his pictures, the candid results his favorite compared to some of the posed photos he’d taken. His phone was quickly full of them, so eventually Peter started printing the ones he liked best at the store whenever his aunt took him along, spending the loose change he found between the sofa cushions and in pockets on laundry day. It was usually his aunt who took him, since his parents weren’t in town, or even the country that often. Peter’s dad was an entomologist and worked in forests and bushland all over the world, and his mom was a freelance journalist, so she worked everywhere so that she could accompany his dad on his tours. Peter wouldn’t deny missing them, but his aunt and uncle had become as much of parents as his real ones, and his mom and dad called whenever they could so he never lacked their affection.

Aunt May sometimes said Peter had their wit and curiosity; she was probably right.

Okay, so he wasn’t completely ordinary… Maybe he was a bit smarter than other kids his age, nothing huge or impressing, but he was fast with grasping the ideas behind concepts and formulas and quick to transfer his knowledge to different problems. His family knew that and his teachers too, so Peter saw no point in making a fuss about it. Besides, being a science nerd only contributed to his invisibility and he wouldn’t risk bragging about it. In his high school, students mostly just passed him in the hallways without paying attention to him, their eyes skimming over him. Peter had liked it that way and it had lasted until he’d left his old school.

Now, two weeks later at a new school, everything was different.

He’d had the idea at night, how things like that tended to, when he was half asleep, nestled in between his huge pillows. His mind was already occupied with creating swirls of images and the thought had shot through him like electricity, sharp and sudden. After hours of lying awake, considering the idea and finally deciding that yes, Peter had noticed the lack of demanding subjects at his current school and yes, he did crave more of a challenge, the thought had become a wish.

He hadn’t wanted to ask, but after weeks of tiptoeing around the topic, he had finally blurted it out at dinner. Neither his aunt nor his uncle had been surprised by the request. Finally, after going through the whole process of finding a high school that was still close enough and met Peter’s expectations, they had decided on Second Street High, accepting a longer commute for the advanced science classes and more modern lab equipment; accepting the trade-off since his old school couldn’t even afford new computers.

On one hand, he was glad that he’d done it, on the other he’d left his best friend, Harry behind. Of course Peter had his number and they texted often, but he lived a few blocks away, which was a huge distance for a teenager without money or a bike. The last time they’d seen each other had been Peter’s last day at school and because he hadn’t worked up the courage to talk to anybody new, his days had been rather lonely since then. Most of his breaks were spent doing homework, avoiding eye contact or picking at his lunch. During his first days, a few students had tried to talk to him before class, but Peter had been too nervous to answer properly – eventually they’d stopped. He sometimes wondered if better subjects and frequently updated school computers had been worth the trouble of finding a new school and losing the bit of social interaction he’d had.

Probably the worst part of the whole change was that, apparently, being the new kid at school had been an antidote for his invisibility. Wherever he went, eyes followed him, sometimes even a whisper about the _strange new kid_ or even _freak_. The cold tingling of their glances had become a permanent sensation on his way through the corridors and made it harder and harder for Peter to retrieve the remnants of his confidence.

Some days he’d sit at the edge of a withered flower bed, ripping off dead leaves and remember what it had felt like to go unnoticed by a crowd. Logically, he knew that this newly arisen attention was a brief phenomenon and would only last until the next new kid arrived but his own reassurances held little comfort for Peter.

So now, when the fist of Jason Price collided with his face again, this time hitting his jaw, Peter desperately wished he could do it; vanish. But apparently, he was still completely visible for Jason and his two friends Juan and Dave, each holding one of his arms, suppressing his struggling as another blow squeezed the air out of his lungs.

“Guh!”

“Come on, Parker, are you even trying?”

Tears sprang to Peter’s eyes when another punch hit his ribs “Urgh!”

“It’s not that difficult, I thought you were a fucking genius. Just do it, just shout for her.” Jason pitched his voice high and whined “ _Oh Missus Preston, help, help! Missus Preston! Jason’s hitting me_!”

The pain in Peter’s chest mixed with shame at the mimicry. His jaw tightened as he pressed his lips together, determined to not let any sound slip out, not even the smallest whimper; when he was forced to pick one, he’d choose physical over mental humiliation.

Jason’s fist came down onto his stomach and buried itself in his guts, Peter’s muscles contracting with a jerk in response, his body bending over automatically as it tried to protect him from serious harm. Juan and Dave started laughing and let go of his arms so they hung slack and heavily at his sides.

_Oh God, let it be over soon_ , Peter begged silently, folding his arms over his middle as nausea took over the aching feeling, _they'll have enough of you any moment, it'll all be over. Just a moment, just a moment, please_... His eyes were squeezed shut in a silent plea, his mind torn between the growing pain and his begging, as a sharper knock landed on his cheek bone and pain exploded in waves over his left eye and nose. His thoughts ground to a halt and screamed in shock. He felt himself lose his balance, the ground seeming to rise to meet him as Peter fell, barely able to catch himself.

The laughter died.

He heard Jason push one of his friends away from him with a rough shove. "Are you fuckin' kidding me?" He shouted. "His face?! Where everyone will see it? Are you daft, you dumb shit? You fuckin' SERIOUS?" The other, Dave, muttered something but was immediately cut short by Jason. "Don't start like that, jerk. It's your fault if Missus Preston is on me again!"

Peter heard steps on the pavement ground and a short scuffle, before Jason spoke up anew, his voice not as close as it was a moment ago. "Let's go, he’s had enough anyway. See you soon, Parker!"

The sentence was spat at him like a curse, but all that mattered was that they’d finally left him alone. Wetness gathered beneath his lashes and ran down his hot, hurting cheeks in fine drops, caused by the combination of relief and pain. The cement he was lying on was rough and scratched over his already aching skin, adding red marks to the swelling he could already feel, so Peter pushed himself onto his back slowly.

Breathing was the most important thing right now.

_Breathe._

His stomach felt like it had been wrung out violently, his body shivering with the effort to push hot air out of his lungs.

_Breathe._

His jeans were torn at his knees from the fall and his back couldn't adjust to the hard, flat ground, but Peter didn't have the strength to move yet.

_Breathe._

A soft breeze brushed over his face, cooling the tears on his cheeks like a healing caress.

_Just breathe._

Oh God. How was he supposed to explain this to his aunt?


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love everybody who's taking the time to read my stuff.  
> Especially my [girl](http://miniquie.tumblr.com/) ♥

The next day was horrible. Peter didn't own any hoodies, so he wore his biggest pullover, trying to pull up the hem over the left side of his face as often as possible to cover the black eye. He had told his aunt it had been an accident in P.E., but he wasn't sure that she believed him. She hadn’t said anything, but the way she’d inspected his face and her concerned expression had made Peter pretty nervous. He couldn’t tell what she suspected.

Either way, she had told him to put some ice on it, and by the time Peter had locked the door of his room behind him, the darkening circle and red swelling were already plainly visible.

That view had somehow gotten to him harder than any punch from Jason or glance from his aunt ever could. Trembling, he’d pressed his hands to his face, the frame of his glasses pressing into his flesh as tears started to stream down his cheeks and left a stinging trace on the bruise.

It had taken him several minutes to calm down again and steady his breath, all the while hoping his aunt wouldn’t come in.

Peter’s fingers clutched the fabric of the pullover harder.

It hadn’t been the first time he’d had dark marks on his skin these past two weeks; his torso and knees were constantly green and blue, but the prominent swelling on his face was something completely different: obvious, telling everybody that he’d been humiliated. Peter hadn’t been able to look at his own reflection that morning and had gotten dressed and brushed his hair as fast as he could before leaving for school without breakfast. In hindsight his small breakdown might have worsened the state of the injury.

Whatever.

The dull sound of people talking around him barely reached his ears and filled his head with white noise.

He’d spent the whole night repeating Jason’s words in his head: ‘ _His face?! Where everyone will see it?_ ’ - Maybe it had been a good thing that this had happened to him, Peter had thought while tossing his pillows to the other side of the bed to find a position that didn’t hurt in any way. Maybe they would be so afraid of the attention they’d involuntarily raised - _His face_?! - that Peter might get a few days off from being pushed to the ground or locked in the filthy boy’s room during recess. His teachers would no doubt notice the quite large bruise and even if they didn’t ask him what happened, some of them would keep an eye on him – Jason had to know that as well as Peter did - _Where everyone will see it_? - Jason wasn’t dumb.

At 4 o’ clock in the morning, this thought had been the silver lining that had put Peter to sleep.

Now, most of the way through third period, Peter shifted in his chair to hide a little more behind Flash Thompson’s back, shielding himself from the searching gaze of his math teacher. The class was almost over and Peter had successfully avoided being called to the board, so only a few minutes of intensely staring down into his book were left before the bell would ring for break and release him into the crowd of students outside.

Normally he wouldn’t have minded standing in front of the others, but today… with the black eye… The horrible scene of him being looked at by the whole class, first facing raised eyebrows and then piercing laughter had haunted him since his arrival and though logically Peter knew it was absurd, his stomach knotted at the mere thought.

Peter hated this.

The more people saw what had happened to him, the more people that would whisper behind his back, the more attention would be drawn to him - the new guy, the strange boy, the freak - and his situation would worsen and worsen.

A hidden part of him somehow wished anyone would notice, maybe a teacher who’d call him out or his uncle and aunt would finally ask him, making him tell them what was going on. Because deep down Peter knew he wouldn’t ask for help of his own accord. Not ever.

Shakily he exhaled to loosen some of the rising tension in his chest as he pulled the collar over his nose. His breath fogged his glasses, and Peter noticed how his sight went blurry and cleared almost immediately, feeling dampness ghost over his cheeks – like a caress. Slowly, he closed his eyes. The seat right next to him was empty – usually it belonged to Jason, however his mom had apparently reported him sick this morning, otherwise Peter wouldn’t have dared to let his guard down, not even for a second. But now, nestled in in his own warmth, his pulse throbbing steadily under his skin and his vision obscured by every exhale, the voice of his teacher became a low mumbling. He was unbelievably tired.

His heart drummed a fast but shallow beat despite the heaviness of his limbs, ignited by the glow of fear somewhere in the back of his brain. Exhaustion enveloped him. Clutching his pullover suddenly became so much harder as his muscles went lax and his fingers wouldn’t grasp the material. The world went murky and quiet. Everything was warm. A comfortable weightlessness filled his mind and he was ready to fall into a welcoming absence, just tipping off the edge; until a sharp and bright ringing pulled him back forcefully.

The bell.

All around him was the squeaks of chairs, the loud thuds of closing books and chatter – Peter sighed soundlessly before he started packing his things. On his way out, he wrapped his arms a little more around his body; sleepiness sent shivers up and down his spine, despite it being a warm spring day. Biting his bottom lip, he joined the noisy crowd in the hallway.

~

_Something caught his attention. Something in his peripheral vision, something short and slow, not matching the fast pace of its surroundings, made him turn his head and look through his blond strands over the many heads moving towards the cafeteria. He’d seen it somewhere near the lockers._

_His eyes narrowed, searching: short. Or slow…_

_The guy he held by his shirt several inches over the floor started struggling as he noticed his aggressor was busy with searching for something else. He managed to land a kick on his knee. The hit tugged at his concentration for moments, but with a fierce shake the guy went still again, a stifled whimper bubbling from his mouth._

_He couldn’t care less._

_There was nothing by the lockers now and not by the fountain either. Already grinding his teeth, feeling heat taking over his thoughts, he finally saw what he’d been looking for next to the boy’s room and looked at the brunet boy like he would at a small animal._

_The first thing he noticed was his posture; stooping, arms held tight to the body, head turning to look over his shoulder every few seconds. He looked anxious, troubled, hurt. As his gaze flickered over the boy’s face, his attention was caught by the black eye the boy wore, a prominent bruise on his features. His fingers let go of the shirt in his hands and the boy fell to the ground, groaning in pain._

_“Thanks, Wade” he sniveled, audibly relieved that that had been it for today._

_Wade only growled. “Fuck off, Maxie-boy. Got more important stuff to do…”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading ♥


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it took me so long - gifts and holidays and everything found their way into my schedule and I am currently reading too much Wolverine comics. Gosh, the hurt is real. As always, I am not quite sure whether I got them as I wanted. Please note what I added to the tags: Wade has ADHD in this; if you think I'm overdoing it in my writing please tell me. I did a lot of research but theory doesn't replace real opinion. I'd be glad about some feedback regarding that matter. Thank you for sticking with me ♥

Somebody was looking at him. Peter could feel it. The sensitive skin at his neck prickled and he felt the cold shiver of a direct gaze run down his spine despite the thick wool covering him. A knot formed in his stomach. He gripped the fork in his hand tighter, concentrating on the sharp pressure of metal against strained muscle. This was what he had feared and now it had started. Now everyone would look at him and see the victim, not Peter Parker.

_No._

His stubbornness awoke suddenly and unceremoniously, just as he was about to hit rock bottom.

 _No_ , he was making this up. Somebody was looking at him; well fine. Let them look. No one yet said anything or did anything – Peter was overreacting. Surely. Maybe they were just gazing into the air for the sake of nothing. Maybe he had lint stuck to his pullover. Hell knew. 

Peter didn’t even know who was looking at him, but his mind was quick in supplying him the idea of Jason sitting behind him, pointing and laughing at him surrounded by his watching friends. He inhaled slowly, let the air fill his lungs and held his breath for a comfortable second before warm air rushed past his lips.

Everything was alright.

He should at least risk a glance.

Slowly, he glanced to his right - tables, students eating, nobody minding him. He turned his head; the smell of fries and fish fingers intensified, more people came into view, some doing their homework, some chatting, but nobody directly staring. A glance over his shoulder. Peter's eyes widened and his head snapped back so fast his neck cracked. Oh fuck. His heart suddenly beat in his throat and the air seemed to be lacking oxygen. Oh fuck.

Nothing was alright.

Somebody was staring at him. A boy. And older boy.

Peter had already seen him before - blond, probably sixteen and taller than others his age by a head. He'd seen him treating other kids like Jason treated Peter, holding them up by their collar, hanging them onto fences or pushing them into trash cans. Trembling fingers ran over sweaty palms. He'd seen him beating up guys almost twice Peter's size, even older kids avoided him in the hallways. A cold shiver ran down his spine.

He ran a hand over his cheek, nervously rubbing at the tender skin of the mark like it would make both disappear: the boy and the throbbing bruise. He couldn't stand it. The room seemed to shrink and left only space for the two of them and Peter's icy fear. He had to get out.

Shaking with fear, he forced his hand to open and the fork fell onto the tray with a clatter. His whole body was tense and his attention taut like a bowstring, ready to snap at any second.

Peter stiffly reached for his backpack and pushed his chair back, face turned forward, but his eyes again rolling to the side where the blond still sat with his sandwich in hand, gaze following him as he made his way out.

_Away from that guy and his piercing eyes._

Outside a warm wind carried the quiet voices of the few others out there towards him, enveloping Peter in the feeling of oncoming summer - a completely different sensation than his cold shivers. He went over the flowerbed and sat down in the cool shadow of a high elm crumpling a leaf in his fingers. Peter closed his eyes, letting the wind run over his body and carry away the disturbing memory together with dried leaf pieces. He only wished the day was over so he could go home and hide on the porch, between his aunt's pink flowers, where just the sweet, fresh scent would disturb his thoughts - a tiny world without school, Jason, worries, cheery voices and approaching steps on the pavemen- FUCK.

With a jerk he jumped to his feet, eyes wide and directed at the blond guy coming closer. His heart dropped into his stomach, adrenaline racing through his veins. Fear paralyzed him, his breath stalling. _Fight or flight_ , Peter thought frantically, _fight or flight and you can't fight him. Run. Run_! Finally his right foot moved away from the threat, but stumbled gracelessly over the left.

Like it had to happen, Peter fell backwards and hit the ground with a dull sound, immediately scrambling away from the tall figure, though he knew he was lost now. Panic replaced fear.

“Not the face, anywhere, but not the face. P-Please my aunt... she'll ask and I don’t know what to tell her a second time and... please-”

The guy came closer, looking down at him. Peter’s eyes watered. 

"Just make it quick, okay?” he asked, trying to cover his tears with shaky fingers, his sight frantically jumping from the blond’s knees up to his face and back to the ground, a high whine already making its way up his throat. His chest felt tight and his stomach contracted. He was about to hyperventilate, couldn’t keep himself from doing so. He was pinned to the ground by the piercing stare of the other boy like a butterfly to cork board. He felt the stone edging at his back and knew he was trapped.

Peter pressed his palms over his eyes. “Make it quick.”

His chest heaved with labored breath. The air had become too thick to breathe and his whole body was tensed, a throbbing knot forming behind his ribs. He waited for the first stroke or a kick. The voice that cut right through the intensity of the moment made him twitch like a shock, before he even realized that the boy had spoken.

“You look like a spider.”

Peter's heart seemed to drop another inch, a mix of fear and confusion pooling in his stomach. Slowly, he splayed his fingers, peeking up to the other.

"... What?”

“A spider. You know,” the guy moved his hand through the air, making fast, wiggly motions with his fingers, “Crawling on the ground.”

The voice was strangely soft for a guy of his stature. Peter would've expected something deeper, more booming. He lifted an eyebrow, staring incredulously at the boy. His pose was unthreatening, hands casually shoved into his pockets, head cocked as he looked at Peter more curious than belittling. Cautiously, Peter lowered his hands.

“Well... You scared me.”

"Sorry"

The boy shrugged his shoulders and sat down on the edging of the flowerbed - right next to Peter. He was so close Peter could feel the body heat radiating from him and flinched at the sudden closeness, straightening his back to sit upright. God, even now he looked huge. "What do you want?"

Again the boy shrugged. "Dunno."

At that, Peter's eyes narrowed, his stomach knotting further and his skin prickling. It wasn't even an answer and confusion was overriding the intimidating fact that the guy had a good 50 pounds on Peter.

He eyed the other boy nervously, waiting for him to say or do anything else, but nothing about the blond raised any red flags; shoulders slouching, fingers busy with rubbing at a hole in his jeans... even his shoelaces were untied.

Not really threatening. Peter worried his bottom lip with his teeth "But... why'd you- You came out here and I saw you inside and…"

"The black eye," he blurted, a little too loud at first before he lowered his voice, "I've seen it in the hallway and I followed you, into the cafeteria and then out here."

That was little better than before. Maybe he'd seen the bruise and thought Peter would pass as an acceptable punching bag, but he hadn't displayed any aggression and Peter's nervousness slowly blended with curiosity - damn, that'd probably be written on his tombstone one day. "Yeah, hard to overlook it, I bet."

"Um, sorta..." The guy kneaded his fingers, strong and plastered with scratches "Have you put some ice on it?"

"You mean the black eye?"

The blond nodded and Peter slowly returned it. "Yesterday. My aunt told me to, but it didn't help that well... it was probably already too late."

"You have to take breaks from cooling it... A few minutes on, a few off, then on again - and so on." He awkwardly moved his hands through the air, pressing his palm to his face and taking it down again. "Works better."

Peter's eyes followed the movement, giving a short hum in response. "Okay. Thanks I guess."

The boy continued to stare at him, gaze fixed on the dark circle and Peter had to muster all his courage to not cover it with his hands. He felt as exposed under those eyes as he had in the cafeteria. The blond's hand twitched suddenly but stopped mid-air.

"Can I touch it?"

His eyes went wide and Peter jerked away at the words, his hand automatically reaching for the black eye. That went from strange to even more strange very fast. "Why?!"

"Just... wanna make sure you're okay."

Peter was sure he wanted to say something at that, but the words got lost on their way out so he just stared back at the boy, eyebrows raised and mouth opening and closing with no sound coming out. His mind told him to jump up and get as much space between them as possible, but the sentence had him so disarmed he threw all sense overboard. A brief image of that tombstone crossed his mind again.

"Okay."

Slowly, he removed his glasses to grant the other better approach and folded them with sweaty fingers. From the corner of his eye, he watched him reaching over, until his fingers brushed over his cheek and his scent wafted through the air, reminding him of something sweet and sticky Peter couldn't quiet pin down. Peter tried to not directly look into his eyes, this felt odd enough already, so he looked up into the sky, where fluffy white clouds sneaked over the bright blue.

"You're lucky it didn't get your nose. Could've been broken," the boy whispered and Peter shuddered as his finger's ran over the swelling. "Sorry." He pointed to the glasses in Peter's hand "You're a clever guy, aren't you?"

"Wearing glasses doesn't automatically make me clever."

"But you are? I like clever guys..."

Peter raised an eyebrow at him, images of this guy cornering others to get their lunch money popping up in his mind. "You sure about that?"

"Yes."


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, I don't know when I'll post the next chapter, so I hope you'll be patient with me. But it won't take a month again, I'm sorry!~ I'm just working on something for [WWP](http://wadewilson-parker.tumblr.com/) (she asked for smut particularly, and I'm having trouble writing that, but I'm almost done, after that -> new chapter). 
> 
> I thought I'd give my [lovely girl](http://miniquie.tumblr.com/) a rest from all my writing, since she's been so kind and doing everything for me, even answering the dumbest questions ♥ I love you, darling! Plus I wanna thank the other [precious being](http://a-girl-ive-never-seen.tumblr.com/) that I got to know recently and is so lovely to me.

"What do you want to be when you grow up?" the boy asked as he let go of Peter's face to ruffle through his blond hair. The strands were tousled and a bit too long, peaking over his ears and brushing over the prominent jaw-line. Peter put his glasses back on, raising an eyebrow at the question.

"You mean when I finish school and everything?"

"Yeah, yeah, nitpicking. What do you want to be?" he asked, rolling his eyes.

For a moment Peter stared at the other, looking at the genuinely curious expression on his face while the question sunk in. He had caught Peter off-guard with the issue and therefore it seemed a little odd - well, the whole conversation was - but the thought was already ignited in his mind and little flames flickered everywhere in his consciousness. This hadn't been something he'd thought about seriously, only sometimes an idea had made its way into his awareness when he was wandering through his neighborhood.

Now, the things he liked the most were the first that sparked.

"I - well... like photography. But that's nothing I'd make my job... Dunno, I want something exciting..." His voice went very quiet and looking down, Peter avoided the blond's gaze. He picked a flower close to his fingertips, absent-mindedly tearing off the soft petals "Maybe something with science... maybe."

Again he had expected laughter, or a snicker, because that surely sounded at least a little freakish to others. However, he hadn't expected a calm voice filled with awe. It made him look up in the blond's brightly grinning face. "You want to be a scientist?"

Peter felt a smile tug at a corner of his mouth too "Yeah, maybe. My dad is, so… it’s not that far from likely."

"I could imagine you as one. Like with a lab coat and those goggles... You'd look hella cu- cool," abruptly, he ended the sentence by mimicking Peter: picking a flower and rolling the blossom between his fingers.

"Uhm... well, thanks I guess. And, err… what do you want to-" But the bell cut right through his sentence, making Peter jerk. He'd almost forgotten they were still in school; the strange conversation between them had captured him completely. The blond jumped up in a quick motion, dropping the squished blossom. He shifted his weight from one foot to the other, tapping the tips of his shoes in the process. 

"I have to go. But I'll wait for you when school's out. What's your name?"

Peter blinked up at the boy and his fingers stopped worrying the naked stem. "Peter. Peter Parker."

"I'll see you after school, Peter!" The other made his way to the double doors leading back into the building before Peter had processed what he had just promised. He felt his mouth hanging open and the first breath didn't make it past his tongue, before he swallowed hard and shouted after him.  
"Hey! What's your name?!"

The boy stopped slightly skidding, a smile beaming back at Peter so brightly that he saw how the whole face of the other lightened up - even over the distance between them.

"I'm Wade!"

~

On his way back to his classroom, Peter tried to get a hold of what just happened and nearly bumped into a group of chattering girls he knew from his biology class. Before they could take a proper look at him, he dodged away shyly, murmuring an apology.

His black eye throbbed with his pulse while his mind began rattling through the memories he had of Wade. Hadn't it been that boy - Wade - he'd seen dragging that senior at his collar into an empty classroom? Wasn't it Wade he saw in the detention room whenever he passed that window? Peter had been sure it was the same boy he'd seen in the cafeteria today - the same blond, messy hair, the same buff guy in baggy jeans

There weren't much people his age with such a build.

Peter hadn't doubted it before, mere moments ago, but... now he started to think whether he could've mistaken him. Wade had been nothing but nice to him, although a little awkward, but nice nonetheless. If he really was the bully Peter had thought him to be, he had no reason to act that way towards Peter… had he? But it was impossible for Peter to mistake him for someone else... Amber eyes and broad shoulders weren't a thing every 16-year-old around here had and his dimples where pretty remarkable too so- oh god, when had Peter started paying attention to him that closely? Where had that suddenly come from?

Peter quickly slipped into his English classroom, taking a seat in the back. Heat rushed over his cheeks and he quickly grabbed his bag to put it onto his desk.

He needed a second opinion.

Piling up all his books in front of him, he fetched his phone from his pocket. Just as he started to text Harry, his teacher entered, scanning the class briefly. He stopped on Peter's black eye for a second, before he grumbled a good afternoon and began to scribble onto the board. Peter returned his attention back to his phone. 

_Strangest thing happened - met a guy 'wade' & had a rlly awkward cnvrsation. wants to wait for me after school. first I thought he’d snap me like a match but he just wanted to talk?? _

Hitting the send button, he shoved his phone under a loose slip of paper sticking out from the pile of books, nervously playing with his fingers until a few minutes later the silent buzz made him snatch for his phone to check for Harry’s answer.

_Wade?_   
_like wade wilson? massive blond guy?_

Peter cocked an eyebrow at that and typed only one word back.

_Yes?_

He didn't need to wait long for the answer. The message symbol popped up a few times in a row seconds after he'd hit the send button.

_dude_   
_no_   
_SRSLY NO_   
_stay away from that guy_   
_he was the one who beat up that kid bob_

Bob, a guy from Peter's old school, lived in his neighborhood. A while back, aunt May had told him he slipped really badly and hurt his shoulder on his way home. Peter didn't have any contact with him, so he hadn't paid him a visit, but had told Bob's mom to wish him well as he saw her in the drive-way a day after. However, if it was true what Harry said, it might have not been a bad slip. Peter's guts twisted.

_But he seemed really nice??_   
_Little strange, but i think he wanted to help me_   
_?_

_believe me_   
_kids r avoiding him_   
_stay away from him_   
_you'll get urself into srs troublr_   
_*trouble_

He eyed the empty seat Jason normally occupied. Maybe Peter already was.

He didn't respond to that last text. Instead, he spent the rest of the lesson thinking about Harry’s warning. It hadn't helped in the slightest; in fact it had just boosted the ongoing conflict in his mind, leaving Peter even more torn than before.

On the one hand he had Wade, seemingly hurting kids for no apparent reason. And if even Harry knew of him, the situation might actually be bad; although Harry tended to be a little overdramatic sometimes.

But on the other hand he couldn't bring himself to believe that the awkward blond he'd just met was of the same kind as Jason, even though Peter had seen him do the exact same things and had felt the exact same fear during lunch like when he was chased by Jason.

Drawing slow swirls on his notes, he blocked the lesson from bothering him in his thoughts.

Truth was that Peter didn't want to think of Wade that way. It was the first real interaction he had had at the new school. It was the first time he wasn't too shy or nervous to speak, since Wade's somehow random way of asking questions made it hard to think too much into it. Peter could cope with that. It made things much more familiar and, as a result, easier for him. Additionally it seemed like his mind had already made its decision some time ago, considering the range of information it had so easily provided.

Whenever that had happened.

Lost in his thoughts, the last two subjects passed somehow blurry, much too eventless to catch Peter's attention when he was musing about what he should think or do now. Still, all his pondering left him with no answer and the bell rang before Peter had come to any conclusion. He grabbed his stuff, carelessly shoving it into his bag as he walked down the corridor to the main entrance. Wade waited for him at the gate, leaning against the fence with crossed arms. Peter noticed how the other students kept some safe distance to him, some eyeing him nervously, others avoiding him completely, paying extra close attention to their shoes. As Peter approached him, Wade raised his head, waving enthusiastically - a girl right next to him winced slightly at the sudden motion. Okay, maybe Harry had at least that point.

"Hey!" Wade beamed happily.

"Hey"

"You ready to go?"

Peter fiddled with the straps of his backpack "Think so."

"Awesome!"

Wade smiled and turned on his heels before Peter could release the breath he'd been holding. He followed him quickly, grabbing the straps of his bag tighter.

Wade didn't turn towards the bus stop, instead he went down the street that led to the main road. Peter's mouth twisted. It was a rather long way by foot - not that he hadn't already walked home from school, like when Jason had kept him... busy so he missed the bus, but it seemed unnecessary whenever he was on time.

Sighing soundlessly, he caught up with Wade and trudged alongside him in silence, that sweet smell hanging in the air again. With the sunlight dancing through Wade's messy, thick hair, Peter was reminded of honey; dirty-golden and shiny, though the scent was much too herbal for it.

Kicking a small stone out of his way, he gave up trying to identify what it reminded him of and his mind went blank, making room for the more important matter: Wade. There was no point in ignoring what he knew about him and the best thing might be to blatantly confront Wade with that. But gosh, they barely knew each other, they had just met.

And people had already warned him about Wade. Okay, well, _Harry_ had warned him. In a very unspecific, maybe rumor-based way.

Maybe there was an explanation? Wade had been so focused on Peter's black eye, had given him advice and even asked to see himself whether Peter was okay. Perhaps he had been somehow intrusive about it, but caring without doubt. It was possible he just tried to be nice and get a new start. Peter at least had to give him a chance to explain himself. He shoved his hands into the pockets of his jeans, eyeing up to the blond.

"Um... Wade?" Peter spoke into the silence, drawing Wade’s attention immediately.

"Yeah?"

"I..." a lump had formed in Peter's throat. He tried to breath past it, the words tumbling much too fast from his lips. "I think I saw you pick on a senior the other day..."

Wade's eyes rolled up. "Could've been me, yeah."

An icy feeling ran down Peter's spine. Great start, really... "And I was told you were the one who dislocated Bob's shoulder?"

"Who's Bob?"

"The kid who always wears that green shirt?" He started to feel uncomfortable, ran his slightly sweaty palms over his jeans, ignoring the dull ache right under his ribs.

"Oh. Was more like an accident though..."

The strain in his stomach worsened and Peter wrung his hands. This was even harder than he'd expected. "And I always see you in detention."

Wade stopped abruptly. "You saw me there?"

The look on Wade's face was unreadable and the dark skin around Peter's black eye started tingling again. "Um, yes?"

"I mean like... noticed me there?"

The tingling feeling stretched down his neck and spread over his chest. Again all those memories he didn't know he had bubbled up in his mind and Peter felt like Wade had caught him out. Defensive, he crossed his arms, gaze running over the ground, searching for any suitable answer.

"Well... you're kinda tall." _Yeah, Peter, ten points to Gryffindor_. His head still turned down and slightly away from Wade, he shifted on his feet, rubbing over his pointy elbows. This wasn't going as he'd planned it. "But... but that wasn't what I wanted to say. I just... don't think you - You shouldn't do this stuff to other kids."

A low hum came from the blond and he nodded slowly, lost in thought, eyes fixed on Peter's hand. "Guesso"

Nervously, Peter bit his lips. He couldn't help but think that Wade was missing the whole point of this conversation. He huffed wearily. "What I mean is: you can't just hurt others."

"It was an accident," Wade repeated toneless. "You mind me being around?"

"Err, no. We barely know each other, I just observed- No, not observed. I… It's just..."

What just? Peter had just heard that Wade had actually done what Harry had told, making Wade a violent person. But he'd also said it was an accident; might be true. Wade hadn't tried to play it down or deny anything and why should he lie to Peter? From the corner of his eye, he watched Wade walking; shoulders slouching, hood lazily pulled over the uncombed, blond strands. What a person would Peter be if he wouldn't give him a chance to prove himself? 

"No, I don't mind."

"Oh. Okay."

They walked the rest of the way mostly in silence, Peter's feet finding their way home of their own accord. Only sometimes Wade pointed to a cat on a fence or started talking about small things like when that they walked in lockstep after a while, but he quickly drifted to muttering and then silence again. That was fine with Peter even though he enjoyed hearing Wade talk. For some reason, Wade kept peeking in Peter's direction every now and then and Peter caught himself waiting for those glimpses, a faint prickle rushing over his cheeks every time Wade's eyes found him. Under that light gaze, he became hyper-aware of the bruise around his eye, feeling over the skin nervously.

The quietness that had settled between them was easy. Without the pressure of searching for a topic, Peter had the time to think his decision over, the only sound accompanying them being their own steps. Slowly, the neighborhood became less and less main street and more residential, houses and blooming gardens filling the scene. Wade was still right next to him, occasionally running his hand over a fence or tearing off leaves from bushes that hung over garden walls. Maybe, Peter thought, if Wade was spending time with him, he hoped for the chance Peter was about to give him? He'd walked his entire way home with him, not even asking questions, doing nothing but- but spending time with Peter.

The feeling to have someone around him, after that horrible start at the new school and the lack of interaction with Harry, soothed something deep inside Peter's chest. He hadn't admitted it to himself and maybe it had been buried under all those worries about Jason and his friends, but Peter had felt lonely.

Now, with that huge blond boy walking him home that pretty long and boring road, he didn't anymore. Realizing that, his heart dropped several inches, hammering somewhere near his stomach. Yeah, Wade was somehow strange and had probably done some severe stuff, but right now he was being nice to Peter, without being asked or forced to do so - he did this by his own choice. And hadn't Peter just decided to give him a chance to better? Might as well be the chance to make a friend...

Softly bumping Wade's elbow with his own, Peter caught his attention, opting for a gentle tone.

"Why are you walking me home?"

Wade turned his head towards Peter, his arm twitching like he wanted to grab for something but changed his mind the same moment. Instead, he casually shrugged his shoulders, as a smile spread over his face. "Dunno"


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The break from this little thingy was shorter than I've planned, but well... I'm writing somehting for lovely Axia as well, it will be great, I promise!

When they'd finally reached Peter's house, Wade attempted to shake his hand, just to pull back the next second and wave a little awkwardly. Peter hadn't minded and returned the gesture - much smaller though. Wade had left with his fingers buried deep in the pockets of his hoodie and his teeth visibly worrying the inside of his cheek. He hadn't thought much of it and went inside to have lunch with his uncle and aunt.

A few days had passed since then, during which Peter had found Wade waiting for him at the gate every morning, just like the first day. It was nice, to say the least.  
He also saw Wade in the hallways, chewing on enormous amounts of gum or playing with a rubber band as he looked over the crowd to spot Peter. Sometimes Wade would join him on his way to his locker, others Peter'd walk over and talk about their new science project or shyly ask if Wade wanted to see one of his pictures. The answer was always yes.

They had spent some of their break together and Wade had accompanied him on his way home once more, this time talking enthusiastically about the new video game the toy store would get in a few days as a free demo. He had promised to take Peter along so they'd try it together.

He hadn't told Harry about this, worrying he could take this the wrong way and feel like Peter was replacing him, but seriously: Being lonely wasn't doing him any good and he never thought of Wade as a substitute. Plus he couldn't compare them, yet he didn't quite know why; they were much too different. So he kept texting him about school, his parents's latest call and thoroughly avoided anything concerning Wade. It wasn't easy, Harry had been his best friend since forever and Wade could be really funny and charming if you just let him, but Peter figured he'd tell Harry when he would know Wade a little longer.

Although Jason returned to school two days later, Peter's mood had changed incredibly over the last few days. Even aunt May seemed to have noticed; not that she said anything, but a knowing smile always played around the corners of her mouth. Peter was fine with that. He had noticed himself how leaving the house in the morning seemed a little easier, knowing that Wade was waiting for him, bright grin plastered on his face. Besides, Jason hadn't paid him any attention since the accident.

The bell rang, announcing the end of the day for Peter and he hurried to shove his stuff into his backpack. He left the classroom surrounded by the chatter and laughter of the others, not paying them any attention, but looking for Wade as soon as he stepped into the hallway. He finally spotted him outside, on the playground. Wade was leaning against a tree, head low, blond strands hanging in his face. He kneaded his fingers and gnawed at the inside of his cheek. Peter raised an eyebrow at him.

"Hey... everything all right?"

"Um, yeah... kinda. I wanted to walk you home again, but... I have this thing and I can't postpone it... but it won't take long, so maybe... you wanna..." he exhaled a deep and somewhat shaky sigh "You wanna wait for me so I can still walk you?"

He didn't directly look at him, but Peter saw him peek through his eyelashes. The way he'd said it, Wade made it look like he had asked for a big favor; Peter didn't quite get why it was such a big deal. Raising an eyebrow, Peter shrugged his shoulders.

"Sure."

"Really!?"

"Yeah, why not."

For a second, Peter thought he saw a light blush rushing over Wade's cheeks, but it was gone the moment the other drew himself up to his full height. "Cool." He whispered, fiddling with the straps of his backpack. Peter had noticed that some days Wade wouldn't bring it, coming to school empty-handed, though Peter hadn't yet bothered to ask why. 

"Okay and... when will you be back?"

"I'll hurry - maybe around four?"

Peter made a point of sighing theatrically. "Fine, I'll wait."

Wade flashed him a grin, so broad that it was clearly visible even though he bit his bottom lip. "Knew you would, Petey-pie."

He ran off with that, a soft chuckle escaping Peter's lips. As soon as Wade's initial restraints had melted off, Peter discovered he was fast in giving nicknames and carried his heart on his tongue, which explained why he'd been so awkward the first day. Sometimes it seemed like Wade couldn't keep a thought or an idea to himself and he burst out a word, or started stuttering all of a sudden. It was mostly just random things that took away the pressure to be the one coming up with a topic, so Peter listened carefully whenever Wade began his rambling. He'd started to enjoy Wade's enthusiasm.

Flopping down gracelessly on a bench, he rummaged through his backpack, searching for something to occupy himself with. Turned out there wasn't much: some schoolbooks and loose papers, pencils, an umbrella and a bunch of older photos were shoved into it, deep down Peter could see some pennies, clips and candy wrapper. Nothing to pass the time since he didn't feel like starting his homework just yet. Not expecting much, he opened the back and front pockets, coming up with nothing again and Peter started guessing he might just kill the time by sitting there and watching. A sigh already made its way up his throat, when his fingers brushed something. Stuffed into the side pocket, between dry crumbs, sand and broken pens, he found an old pencil case. Peter vaguely remembered packing it for the weekend trip with Uncle Ben last year and as he opened it, he found his disposable camera. It still had some pics left on it and well, the schoolyard was rarely that deserted...

Not wanting to leave his stuff behind, Peter stayed where he was and, looking through the eyepiece, skimmed the school grounds. Fiddling with the camera once in a while - the sand had still worked its way inside and the shutter wouldn't close completely - he only noticed the steps behind him as they already sounded to be up close. Behind the camera, he started smiling as he took the last free picture and then he glanced on his watch; half past three.

"Wow, you really hurried. Didn't think you wou-"

But the air got caught in his lungs and his smile froze. The camera fell out of his grip when a hand landed on his shoulder; palm too cool, grasp too tight. Everything seemed to stop for a heartbeat.

_No._

"Parker, Parker...

_No. Please, god, anyone... no._

"You still hangin' 'round here? Bein' too busy with homework to say hello?"

He wanted to run, as far and fast as anyhow possible, but his feet where stuck to the ground once again. His chest clenched and his heart throbbed weakly. There was no escaping. There would be no running away. Peter opened his mouth with a dry sound, his tongue feeling heavy and numb. "Gotta keep myself occupied when you're taking ages to find me."

"Oh" Jason whispered and it ran down Peter's back like icy water, the hand now grabbing his collar, "So you're lucky we finally did, aren't you..."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really love all of you and if you enjoy this, my life's complete. If you wanna talk, have questions or review stuff, come to my  
> [tumblr](http://schierlingsbecher.tumblr.com/). I love you guys ♥


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This isn't beta-read, but I have to get it out of my system. Darling, by the way sorry for bypassing you, but the last chapter's have somehow been a pain and I wanted to get rid of them.
> 
> You're lucky - you get TWO cameos in this one ♥

The metallic taste of blood filled his mouth and where he'd bitten his tongue open, it was swollen and throbbing. There was a sharp pain in his knee too, but every time Peter tried to push himself up to examine his wounds, the burn on his chafed palms made him stop. Instead, he rested his forehead on the asphalt, surrendering to exhaustion.

He felt his own slow breath brush over his chapped lip, saliva and dust adding a slight burn. With his ear pressed to the ground, he heard the steady thud of feet much earlier than the first time. Peter ground his teeth, his stomach turning.

This had to be a bad dream. He thought they'd had enough, so why were they coming back?

The sound became louder, approaching fast.

His body betrayed him, still tense and hurting, not willing to move, so Peter just pressed his eyes shut, balling up as much as he could. If he was lucky, they'd just take his bag. The thuds became a drumming, filling his ears until it had grown into an unignorable banging. Peter tasted bile on his tongue.

"PETER!"

Immediately, warm, sweaty hands ran over his side and Peter relaxed as much as the pain would let him. That was Wade's voice and his big palms. A groan escaped him as Wade turned him carefully and Peter saw him looking at his face under his lashes, expression concerned.

"Fuck b- Petey what happened?"

Peter laughed weakly, his lip splitting open again "I obviously tripped."

Wade huffed, but Peter thought he saw him blink away some wetness, though it might've just been his imagination. 

"Shuddup. We have to patch you up... I'll bring ya home." He attempted to put his arms around Peter's torso, but Peter pushed his hands away, eyes widened in shock.

"NO!"

Wade opened his mouth to protest, so Peter started arguing, hands shacking "My aunt's home and I already came home with a black eye and I didn't know what to say then so what am I gonna tell her now and... Wade, I can't go home like this! Please!" He grabbed Wade's shirt and tried to shake him, though Wade was too massive to even sway with Peter's dragging.

"But we should really get this disinfected and I need to look at your knee!" Wade replied in an urging voice, letting Peter pull at his clothes. Their eyes met and for a heavy moment, they stared at each other, Wade's mind obviously rattling with thoughts. He looked worried, ruffling the hair that peaked out beneath his hood and biting his bottom lip. As he sighed, Peter let go of his clothes. "I... I could take you to my house. Just - Y'll have to promise not to laugh."

"Uh, why should I?" Peter asked, questioning look on his face.

Instead of giving him an answer, Wade shrugged his shoulders and slung an arm around Peter, pulling him up and supporting him like he was nothing. "Gotcha... C'mon."

Peter wasn't sure about this, but after some careful, very slow steps, it became clear Wade didn't have a problem with handling Peter's weight and honestly, any other day it would've been embarrassing, but now Peter thanked whatever higher power let him meet Wade.

They made their way down the street, but soon took a turn Peter'd always passed and never paid a second glance before. It wasn't that evenly paved and the smell waving over from the gas station was a sharp sensation in Peter's nose.

Even with Wade almost lifting Peter off the ground with every step, they weren't really fast. The scenery changed slowly and Peter looked around the sad neighborhood to distract himself from the stinging in his limb; front lawns toasted and driveways cracked. And that was where Wade was living?

It wasn't long before Wade gently pulled him over and opened the gate of an old, rotten fence. A strange pressure settled in Peter's guts - that was his home?

If there'd ever been a lawn on the ground, it was long gone, replaced by weeds and puddles of dirt. The paint chipped of the walls and the roof was partly covered with corrugated iron. Peter glanced at Wade, who avoided looking at him and watched his feet instead. Peter chewed at the inside of his cheek.

Wade had to open the door with an extra push, but it eventually swung open and Wade helped Peter inside. The corridor was small and didn't have a window, leading to the kitchen straight on and to what seemed to be the living room on the left. He only caught a glimpse of it, before they entered the kitchen and Wade pulled a chair towards Peter, helping him with his leg as he sat down.

"Okay... I'm with you in a sec. I just needa... I'll be right back, expose your knee in the meantime."

When he left the room, Peter's eyes wandered around, taking in the condition of Wade's house; the kitchen table was covered with a floral cloth that was a little too short, the white plastic beneath showing. The counters were mostly clean, but looked as used as the rest of the furniture - it was obvious Wade's family wasn't well-off.

Peter sat there, feeling a little awkward for a moment, unsure whether he should try to hitch up the pants’ leg over his knee, or just pull off the pants. He felt a faint heat rush over his cheeks at the thought, but it wasn't like he'd be naked in Wade's house. Peter swallowed his doubt and started opening his pants, when a rough voice resounded from the living room.

"Ya late. Didn't get yaself into trouble 'gain, did ya, bub?"

"Got detention. Don't wanna talk 'bout it. Everything's good here?"

"Been an angel 's always," the rough voice replied and Peter heard steps down the squeaky floor, the click of a door handle. "Brought ya mom with ya? Heard ya talk ta someone... She home early? Got 'er second shift cancelled?"

"Nah, she's still at work. I brought a friend... I'ma tell ya tomorrow, have to go back to him now."

A moment of silence followed, before a door opened and the unfamiliar voice mumbled "Seeya tomorrow." He heard Wade walk around the room and as his steps came closer, Peter realized he just sat there, pants open. As fast as his hurting knee would allow him, he shoved the fabric down his leg, getting a first glimpse of the red scratches on his swollen skin. When Wade appeared in the doorway, Peter covered his underwear with the pants’ leg, to at least feel a little less naked.

Luckily, Wade didn't look surprised and straight up kneeled in front of him, examining the now obvious swelling. Peter hissed as Wade cautiously tried to bend his knee. 

"It's bruised, but I hope that's it... Just try to relax, I'll get ya some ice."

Wade contracted his eyebrows and started nodding slowly, like he wanted to assure himself, before he got up again. Peter heard him rummage through the loudly buzzing freezer, then open a cabinet and turn on the tap, before he returned with an ice pack with the school's name on it and some other items. Peter watched how Wade sprayed something on the scratches, expecting a sting that never came. He covered the worst part of it with a band-aid, carefully on the edges and as he cautiously pressed the pack to Peter's knee, Peter twitched, but sighed deeply right after the cold eased the pain of the swelling a bit. Wade smiled shyly.

"I'll patch you up and you'll be better in no time, Petey-prince. Walking might be a pain in the ass for some days though. But if you'll get bored at home, I can push you around your neighborhood in a desk chair. So you can take your pictures." Wade's face lightened up at the idea, so Peter didn't say that this was no option, because his aunt mustn't know of his injury. Cautiously, Wade wrapped a slightly frayed bandage around Peter's knee and the pack. He watched how Wade's blond strands bounced with his movements and he relaxed a bit more in his chair.

"Okay... Lemme see your lip before I bring you to the living room. Y'can prop up your leg there. Just..." Wade seemed to hesitate for a moment, probably afraid to touch a bruise, but then cupped Peter's chin and inched closer. "Just gonna take a look..."

Suddenly, the air between them became thick and warm.

A heavy feeling settled on Peter's chest as Wade turned his whole attention to his mouth, amber eyes fixed on his lips. Up close he saw how bright they were, sparkles of brown peppering the irises - he was reminded of sunlight. With Wade's face so close, Peter became highly aware of the heat that radiated from Wade and the drags of air brushing over his chest and shirt. Peter's pulse beat a fast-paced rhythm in his throat when Wade fingers traced over the corner of his mouth and Peter felt like he wanted to hold his breath for a moment.

Wade blindly reached for a damp wash cloth and started whipping at Peter's chin with care, dried blood coming off and painting the rag red. It still stung, but Wade kept the touch light to not tear the cut back open. Peter concentrated on the hand that still cupped his jaw, Wade's thumb gently stroking over Peter's skin in a soothing gesture.

"It already stopped bleeding. When you're clean, you can have some water. Must taste like crap" Wade smiled at him beneath the lose strands of blond hair and Peter's heart skipped a beat. Wade's voice seemed so low suddenly; it was like a rumbling behind Peter's ribs. "Y'know, I tried sewing my split lip once... didn't really work. Bled like a pig all over my bed."

Before Peter could tear himself out of his daze and react to that, Wade had put away the wash cloth and stood up, pulling Peter to his feet too. He helped him walk over to the sink, where Peter rinsed his mouth as best as he could. Wade brought him to the living room, more carrying than supporting Peter and sat him onto the old, stained couch. Propping up Peter's leg on a cushion, Wade resumed talking quietly.

"I thought about what you said: about becoming a scientist and everything. And I thought like... Maybe you shouldn't become a scientist... but a photographer. I bet you'd enjoy that too. And think about all the places you could visit! You can work in a forest, or at the beach or in another country. And you'd get invited to weddings and birthdays."

"I guess that'd be nice."

Wade flashed him a grin and fell into the armchair next to the couch, raising and eyebrow at Peter. "Okay, now sweet talk's over... what happened?"

"Don't wanna talk 'bout it..."

"Aw, come on! I brought you here and pampered you like my princess... Y'owe me an explanation."

Peter wrung his fingers, avoiding Wade's gaze. He was probably right and it might be nice to finally tell someone - not even Harry knew everything. Plus Wade had really helped him a lot. He took a deep breath and faced the blond. "Jason. He and his friends, I don't know whether you know them: Dave and Juan, they don't like me... They started picking at me after my first few days... I thought I'd just ignore them, but- it made things worse. They waited for me after school or found me sitting in that corner where we met. Guess you can figure the rest out yourself..."

Peter shrugged, but Wade tilted his head slowly. While he'd spoken, Wade's expression had darkened, jawline strained like he was gritting his teeth. "So... _They're_ responsible for that black eye?"

He saw how Wade clenched his fists, a huff escaping Peter's lips. "Well, what'd you think what happened?"

"I- I just... I dunno! Maybe that you had a fight! "

A sound like a growl came from Wade's throat, so Peter leaned over the armrest, tapping for his arm. "Hey..." He didn't respond, so Peter reached for his wrist, pulling slightly at it. Wade looked angry, like Peter'd not seen it until now, but his aggression wouldn't bring them anywhere. Mimicking Wade, Peter ran his thumb over Wade's pulse point, until he looked him in the eyes again, finally opening his fists with twitching fingers. Peter continued in a low voice. "Wade... you can't do anything about it right now. What _would_ you do anyway? Find them? Yell? Beat the living shit out of them? Would be great really - fighting violence with violence will surely work."

Wade bit his lips like he tried to hold himself back from giving an answer to that but Peter ignored it and softly punched his biceps. "Besides you wouldn't leave a guest in your house all alone, would you?"

That made Wade roll his eyes. He gritted his teeth again before huffing heavily and crossing his arms.

"No..." A smile tugged at the corners of Peter's mouth, as a low whine cut through the air and all remaining tension melted off Wade immediately. He jumped up, rushing to the other side of the room. The backrest of the sofa was too high for Peter to look over it and see what Wade was doing, but a moment later the crying stopped and instead, he heard vivid babbling. It sounded like a baby. Wade's sweet whispers, words Peter didn't catch, came closer, till something grabbed his hair and a high giggling rose next to his ear.

"Hey Pete, wanna meet someone special?" Wade bent over the couch and smiled at Peter, holding a baby in his arms, hair blonde and curly. "This is Wanda. She's my lil' sis."

The bright blue eyes blinked happily and Wanda was waving her arms through the air, making grabby hands at Peter. When he reached for her, Wanda caught Peter's pointer with strength he wouldn't have given her credit for. She laughed and Peter smiled at her. "Hi Wanda..."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please tell me it's not complete crap.  
> Hope you know who the other cameo was? By the way the love in this chapter is the reason for the hurt before. Otherwise it wouldn't have happened.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay, but this one's at least longer than the others. Attention, very sappy - sorry in advance. D:  
> I'll be busy with preparing stuff for Spideypoolweek and some personal things - please bear with me.

Peter would've liked to stay a little longer at Wade's, especially since the throbbing in his knee weakened though hadn't disappeared completely, but the sky had started to turn pink and Aunt May didn't know where Peter was. He'd figured it was time to go and Wade had offered to leave Wanda in a neighbor's care so he could bring him home. Peter had accepted with a strange flutter in his stomach.

Before they'd left, Peter had shyly asked Wade if he could lend him one of his pullovers so Peter would be able to hide his scratched palms and hunched posture. Now they walked down Peter's street, Wade's arm slung around him for support. Peter entwined his fingers in the front pocket of the hoodie, thankful for the extra warmth that radiated from Wade. With the light of day fading behind the horizon, the air had become really chilly.

As Peter's home came into view, Wade rubbed his side in an affectionate gesture and his tone turned more serious.

"Listen, sweetie: In case your auntie sees your knee, you can just say't was me. We played basketball and I kicked you or something."

At that, Peter felt his ears redden and he glanced up to Wade, his face hidden behind his strands. "I won't tell her you did it, I-"

"Ah, it's no problem, precious, I can live with that."

Peter pressed his lips together. "I won't tell her you did it. If she asks, I'll tell her it was an accident. Nothing more. You can be my witness if you like."

Though Wade snorted in response, Peter noticed his hold tightening slightly around his waist - Peter didn't comment on it.

"My aunt's gonna love you anyway."

"Uh, you want me to actually meet her? Like in she sees me, I see her, she tells me to stay away from her neat nephew?" Wade sounded unsure now and Peter saw his eyes dart down. "I thought I'd just... you know... wait 'till you're inside, wave a little awkwardly so you can tell her of the weirdo that kept you from coming home. I had that all planned out Petey..."

He emphasized that last part with an exaggerated whine, but Peter couldn't shrug off the feeling that Wade really meant what he'd said. He liked to do that. Wade would say things like these, nasty or even heart-wrenching statements about himself and then make a stupid and inappropriate joke or laugh a bit too loud. Peter silently asked himself how much more of that stuff occupied Wade's mind.

"Sorry, she'll insist." He brushed his head against Wade's shoulder, so soft that he would mistake it for a coincidence. "Don't worry, you're nice and you brought me home as it got dark. She'll like you."

Wade whimpered silently at that, but Peter imagined it was a little more show than before.

By the time they reached his house, Wade seemed a little tense though when Peter smiled at him encouragingly, Wade returned it. Peter knocked at the door as he felt Wade's arm slide from his waist. He immediately felt a cold imprint where Wade's body heat had been moments ago. He heard steps behind the door and made sure to put his weight on both of his feet, although his knee already protested, right before the door opened and light fell onto them both. Wade took a step backwards when Aunt May stepped into the doorway.

She was wearing her reading glasses and looked at Peter with a raised eyebrow and his smile faltered a little. "Hey Aunt May."

"Well, nice to finally see you home, Peter..."

Her tone was firm but not without kindness and Peter reached for Wade's shoulder. "I brought a friend - that's Wade, he's from my school."

Wade brushed the hood off his head, trying to smooth down his tousled strands without much success. "Evenin' Ma'am."

With his hands folded in front of him and his back straightened, he looked much taller and less intimidating than Peter had ever seen him, lips pressed together and eyes fixed on Aunt May like he was standing in front of a very strict teacher. She had to tilt her head slightly to look into Wade's face as she smiled in response - Peter only had an inch on her, but Wade was just so tall for his age. "Hello Wade. I'm happy to meet you - I guess you're the friend Peter has yet to tell me of?"

Heat rushed over Peter's cheeks, but Wade chuckled. "Yeah, already figured he'sn't always the talking type, Ma'am."

They exchanged a glance - Peter felt like he was missing something. When Aunt May faced Peter again, Wade relaxed a little and fixed the hem of his hoodie. "Quite a time to be home, young man. I already started preparing dinner. Come in, boys."

"Sorry, we played basketball and... well I forgot." He shrugged the topic off, hopefully somewhat convincing in his remorse, though his aunt rolled her eyes at them. When she turned her back at him, Peter flashed Wade a sheepish smile and vaguely gestured towards the door to invite Wade in. He allowed himself to lean a little against the door to shut it, taking pressure off his knee.

"You could've called right after school. Wade, you'll stay for dinner. Peter, there’s broccoli on the table - we're having chicken." Aunt May declared, leaving no room for any argument, "I'll check on the laundry, you two can start chopping already."

She took the stairs leading from the hall down into the basement and Peter nodded to his left, encouraging Wade to enter the kitchen. The smell of cooking food hung heavily in the air and on the stove, steam rose from a pot. It was much warmer in here and Peter immediately regretted that he couldn't take off the pullover. He looked over to Wade, the human heater - surely he had to be melting in here - but despite the warmth, Wade pulled the sleeves of his hoodie a little more over his palms, looking around the room with wide eyes.

"I like your house."

"Thanks. My uncle and aunt live down here, my parents and I upstairs. But sometimes I feel like it's all my flat up there - since they're not here most of the year... maybe I can show you my room next time you come over."

Peter fetched two knives and a bowl so they could set to work. When Wade started cutting, _or_ , Peter thought, _rather shredding_ the vegetable into pieces, he was seriously worried about Wade's fingers for a moment. Peter put his hand on Wade's wrist to stop the massacre.

"You know... enthusiasm's one thing, but... I'd really appreciate it if you kept all your limbs and mine right where they belong - Take your time." Peter showed him what he meant and Wade was quick to match his pace.

As Peter shifted on his chair to reach for a bowl of green beans, he bumped his foot into Wade's calf, a jolt of electricity rushing through his toes.

Flinching back, he mumbled a breathy "Sorry."

"No, no, my bad..." Wade muttered without looking up. In the awkward silence, Peter heard Wade drag his foot back over the ground.

He didn't know what drove him. Before the blush could spread over his neck, Peter stretched out his unhurt leg, stopping Wade in his motion. Boiling blood rushed into his cheeks, but he kept silent as he felt Wade eyeing him from the side. Something nudged gently on his shoe. Now he threw a quick glance at Wade, who busied himself with the vegetable on his board. Neither of them said sorry this time. Instead, Peter brushed his foot against Wade's again, getting an immediate response as Wade tucked it between his, their ankles rubbing against each other. They continued cutting their vegetables without a glance at the other, Peter trying to stifle an overly broad smile.

Aunt May returned just moments later, both of them pulling their feet back as they heard her on the stairs.

Putting the vegetables into a pot filled with water, Peter and Wade set the table for three, since uncle Ben wouldn't be home for another hour. Peter noticed Wade hesitating a moment before placing his bowl, obviously unsure where he was supposed to sit, before Peter took it away from him and placed it next to his.

In response, Wade ruffled his blond hair, like he sometimes did when he was nervous. Peter lost himself staring for a moment, but Aunt May chose that second to come up behind him, telling them dinner was ready.

As they sat together, full plates in front of them, Aunt May started asking Wade where he lived, if he had siblings and about school, but Wade only gave back one words replies, speaking in a low voice and keeping his mouth busy with food. Peter had almost burned his tongue on the first spoon, but Wade didn't seem to have a problem with that, though he noticed Wade looked a bit nervous. As Peter took over the conversation and told Aunt May about Wanda, he felt Wade's hand brush his leg under the table. He tried not to seem too startled in front of his aunt.

When they'd finished, Wade threw a nervous glance to the clock on the wall. "Time for me to head home... Thanks for the dinner, Ma'am"

"You're welcome, dear. Just stop calling me Ma'am. I'm May for you."

"Yes Ma'am."

They brought Wade to the door and watched him pull the hood over his head, cool air mixing with the warmth of their home around their ankles.

"Be safe, honey."

"Will be, Ma'am." Wade gave her his sweetest smile and she patted his arm in response.

"I'll do the dishes," Peter said as she turned away from them.

"Sure you will. You've been home way past curfew without calling."

Peter couldn't stop himself from rolling his eyes and Aunt May went to the living room, where they heard the radio being turned on. Suddenly, they were alone again, the atmosphere between them thick and charged with a fresh emotion. Peter became hyper aware of all the physical contact they'd had today - yeah, some had been necessary to get Peter home and Wade had to patch him up, but that arm around him and those big hands stroking over his skin to examine damage was something entirely different than, and Peter looked down at his shoes at that thought, their feet under the table, or the soft brush at the dinner table he still felt burning on his thigh.

The heavyness of the air around him made it hard to think straight, but whatever was taking shape in the back of his mind, gave him a little nudge to smile at Wade.

"I really enjoyed today," Wade finally whispered, shoving his hands into his pockets, "You know... not exactly... you know what... but the rest."

Peter laughed. "Yeah, I guess me too." He glanced up to Wade and caught him trying to hold back his smile by biting his bottom lip.

"See you tomorrow."

When Wade made his way down the front steps and waved at him, Peter remembered how he'd waited for him after school that first day they met. Now the motion was much smaller, less excited and much more... private. Peter closed the door behind him, grin still plastered onto his face.

~

"So, basketball, hm?" Aunt May's voice came from the door frame when Peter was almost done with the dishes.

"Yeah, I'm not really great, but Wade let me score at least some points."

"I see," she mumbled, crossing her arms in front of her, "So you've been outside all day?"

Peter shrugged. "Pretty much."

"Not... dropped by his house? Not even to have a drink?"

A chilly shiver ran down his spine. How did she do that? "No... had a bottle in my bag."

The hum he got in response didn't sound convinced and he realized she eyed him up and down - it felt piercing, although her voice sounded gentle. "Peter... you know you can tell me anything, don't you?"

He broke out in cold sweat. She couldn't know about the knee. She couldn't. "I... I do Aunt May." 

"Well, then I wonder how you got his pullover when he was still wearing one. Remember to do the plates too."

Heat spread on his face and his mouth dropped slightly open. Aunt May left him alone in the kitchen, her steps moving towards the living room. Peter stood there, leaned against the counter to support his weight. His knees had gone weak.

_Fuck._

~

With his toothbrush still in his mouth, Peter rummaged through his bedsheets, searching for his old Status Quo shirt. The whole day had been exhausting and now everything he wanted was to finally curl up under his blanket and sleep, hopefully undistracted from thoughts of Wade, but Peter suspected he'd make his way into his mind one way or another. He'd just found the shirt stuffed into a crack between the bed and the wall and pulled the fabric over his head, when he heard a sound from the window. Startled, Peter tried to look past the glass, but the light in his room was switched on and everything he saw was his own reflection in his messy room, toothpaste froth slowly running down his chin. He raised an eyebrow, wondering whether he was just so tired that he'd imagined the sound, when he heard it again. It sounded like a tick. He crossed his room and quickly opened the window, ready to shoo away whatever stupid bird pecked against the glass. But instead of a bird or insect on the windowsill, Peter looked down on the lawn, where Wade flashed him a hesitant smile.

Only for a moment Peter stared at him, before he realized who it was and that his chin was wet with the bubbly froth. Hastily, he swiped it off at his shoulder and swallowed the toothpaste in his mouth, a shiver running down his spine at the unpleasant taste.

"Wade??"

Wade narrowed his eyes against the light falling out of the window, before a wide grin spread over his face as he saw his shirt. "Let Me Fly, eh? Like that song."

"What are you doing here?"

"Couldn't sleep," Wade sighed, kicking at something on the grass, "Thoughts in my head... worries. Loud worries." He jerked his head slightly, like he wanted to shake something off. Peter didn't really understand what he meant with that, but since his thoughts made Wade stray through the streets at night, all the way to his lawn, it had to be troubling him.

"Wanna tell me about your worries?"

He grunted.

"Uh, come on, Wade, you came all the way here to play the silent-game with me now? Not really your nature."

Something in his expression hardened and Wade clenched his fists when he fixed his gaze on Peter. He could almost hear him take a deep breath, a mixture of determination and sincerity written over his face. Suddenly the air felt hot on Peter's skin. "I'm so angry at them. They hurt you and... I can think of nothing else than hurting them back."

Peter bit his bottom lip, holding Wade's gaze. "But you know you mustn't do it, right?"

"I shouldn't, but I want to. I feel like... like I'm responsible for this. I wasn't there and I...", his voice dropped low and Peter leaned a little out of the window to catch his next words, "I feel like I didn't protect you although I should have..."

The words sunk in deeper than Peter would've expected them to. His skin started tingling were it was exposed to the air and heat rose up in his stomach and chest, though Peter couldn't say whether it was affection or anger. 

"Listen, you don't have to protect me, not your business and - _no_ ," Peter cut him off as he saw Wade opening his mouth to disagree. Peter ran a hand through his hair with a groan. Wade still stared at him, his jaw set in a tight line and for a moment, Peter hated Wade for his perseverance. He took a deep breath, calming himself and leaned onto the windowsill, arms folded under his head "I'm not a child you have to protect. But you know who is? Wanda. You can't leave her alone at home wandering to my house or plotting revenge on my behalf. It's almost midnight. She needs you, you should be with her right now."

That at least seemed to make him falter. Peter saw how Wade's eyes widened slightly and he threw a glance over his shoulder, like he could see right through all the houses separating him from his sister. Peter took that as his chance. "You said you liked today. I told you I did too. Why not think about that instead? I know I did." It was more than he'd wanted to say, but the way Wade looked up to him, how his hair looked so messy from being shoved under a hood all day made Peter's knees go weak (or even weaker) and that little confession had tumbled over his lips before he could stop himself. So he might as well go for more now, right? "And hey... if you wanna have something else to think about... tomorrow's Friday and... I don't exactly have plans for my weekend. We could spend it at yours, with Wanda. I could bring my PS and we'd just have a lazy day - you know... if you wanna..."

Slowly, Wade's eyes widened the tiniest bit; his eyebrows rising as he silently opened and closed his mouth. The blond strands reflected the faint light of a street lamp as Wade nodded slowly, eyes fixed on Peter like he was the sun. His heart picked up a fast rhythm, beating in his throat. "I'd love to..." Wade replied, voice hoarse.

Hesitantly, they smiled at each other. Peter's stomach seemed to do a backflip. "You should go home now..."

"Will do. Seeya in the morning, baby boy. Bye"

"Bye."

They grinned at each other for another moment, before Wade stepped backwards, eyes still fixed on Peter, until he'd reached the end of the garden. Peter watched how he pulled the hood over his face and shoved his hands into his pockets as he walked away. His heart was buzzing. His fingers trembled.

A fuzzy, bright feeling blooming behind his ribs, Peter closed the window when he couldn't see Wade anymore in the darkness outside.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Everybody around me's doing livestreams. I want one too - just with writing drabbles. Anybody who'd see that?  
> If you would or just wanna give me feedback, please tell ([me](http://schierlingsbecher.tumblr.com/ask)) ♥


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Spideypool week is over, I finally got time for this again. I'll have to try to write some things simultaneously now, because my agenda is too full. I'll give my best not to let you guys notice.
> 
> ((I had to repost this chapter so some comments have been deleted, I am sorry! D:))

The next morning, Peter woke up feeling horribly tired, his vison blurry and his back hurting from the too short night. After Wade had left with that happy smile on his face, Peter had lain awake for a long time, the image of the expression glowing behind his closed eyes, belly filled with a tickling joy.

Unfortunately, that had left him without much time to sleep.

He got up and packed his things for school only half-conscious, brushing his teeth while he shoved a notepad into the bag. He was already dressed when Peter realized he had to take out several books again to make some space for his sleeping shirt, the PS and some other stuff he'd need at Wade's. The thought that he'd spend the night there kept him awake enough to remember combing his hair and slouch down the stairs in time to have breakfast with his uncle and aunt.

As he left the house, Wade was already waiting for him, grin plastered onto his equally tired face. Peter smiled back and they made their way to school, much slower than usually so Peter didn’t have to stress his still aching knee too much.

Nevertheless, his smile didn’t leave his face throughout their way.

Wade saw Peter off at the Math lab’s door, Peter’s first class that day, whispering “Bye-bye baby boy” as he pulled at the sleeves of his pullover, flustered expression on his face. Peter sent him off with a gentle poke to Wade’s biceps and watched him round the corner of the corridor with a last wink at Peter.

Entering the room, he took a seat in the last row and while he waited for the teacher to arrive and the lesson to start, fetched his cell. The screen blinked with a notification and Peter found a text from Harry, sent twenty minutes ago.

_this weekend, meet me online at dusk? fight for honor and glory?_

Peter chuckled at that, texting back quickly.

_Sorry, meeting someone irl. But we’ll be online, so challenge both of us if you dare to._

_who?_  
_that Wilson kid???_

_Yeah_

_you’re really hanging out with him?_  
_i mean…_  
_no offense but he hasn’t beaten you to pulp???_

He couldn't suppress the low sigh in his throat at Harry's reaction, though it was probably not unjustified. Peter had neglected keeping Harry up to date how Wade wasn't at all as his reputation was suggesting, so Harry was worried. Peter felt a little guilty for leaving his best friend in the dark about this new friendship now that he thought about it.

 _He’s nice, trust me. We've spent some time together and he's great. Caring and fun, seriously_ , Peter texted back, gnawing at the inner side of his cheek as he typed the next sentence. _I like him_

This time, the response didn’t come right away. The writing-symbol popped up several times and disappeared again for several minutes, before Harry finally answered, much shorter than Peter would’ve expected.

_…_  
_stay safe, kay?_

_Am always._

Peter put his cell into his pocket, trying not to think about what Harry might’ve meant with his last text. Or about why he had told Harry he liked Wade. He's said they spent the weekend together, so that'd go unsaid, right?. Right?

But before Peter had a achance to push himself into a fit of nervous lip biting and hand wringing, the room filled with other students and all the chatter and noise around him distracted him enough until class began. He put way to much thought into that one text anyway.

Math passed quicker than Peter expected and with anticipation bubbling in his chest, paying attention in English was much more difficult than any other day, but eventually Peter sat through that too. Break seemed to last only some minutes, even without meeting Wade somewhere in the halls and after probably the most boring talk he ever had to endure in History and two hours of doing almost nothing for his science project, school was finally finished for today and Peter and his classmates stormed out of the room to let their weekend begin.

It was one of the rare days when school ended at the same time for Peter and Wade, so Wade didn’t have to wait for Peter outside and Peter didn’t have to worry about Jason or the others finding him again, since running from them with his hurt knee would be a physical impossibility.

They met outside and made their way down the now familar road, arriving at Wade’s house a little later and storming the kitchen to stuff their faces with sandwiches. After they’d eaten, Peter connected his PS to the TV in the living room and Wade pulled Wanda’s cot closer to the couch so she’d be with them. Although, since she blinked tiredly, Peter suspected she’d be asleep any moment. He tossed Wade the second controller, already starting the game – it was just a cheap racing game, but the tracks lead over the different planets of the solar system, so Peter figured they’d be well entertained.

They each rested their backs against an armrests of the sofa, feet meeting in the middle. Although it was Peter’s game, Wade quickly adapted and passed Peter twice in one lap and the rounds practically flew by. In the middle of a neck to neck on Neptune, Wade hit pause just as Peter wanted to blast him off the track. He turned his head towards Wade, questioning sound already half on his tongue, but choked on it when he saw Wade’s face. Wade met him with a dead serious expression, leaving Peter startled, closing his mouth a little too late.

“You have to do me a favor.”

Not knowing what to answer, Peter simply nodded. Wade grinned in response and hopped over the backrest like it was nothing, while Peter almost tore down the PS when he tripped over the power cord. He put the controllers onto the couch table and followed Wade, who’d already gotten a chair from the kitchen and carried it into the bathroom. Peter followed him with a raised eyebrow – maybe this was one of Wade’s less reasonable ideas? He had those moments sometimes…

Standing in the doorframe a little awkwardly, he watched Wade bend over the sink and rinse his hair, before he turned back to Peter, drops of water splashing, and handed Peter a pair of scissors. “I want you to cut my hair.”

Wiping the wetness from his face, Peter narrowed his eyes at the scissors – mainly because his glasses were now smeared and he couldn't see clearly. How Wade had jumped from playing video games to getting his hair cut he didn’t know, though he didn’t question him either. It was just how Wade was. Peter raised an eyebrow at that, but already took the scissors from Wade.

“You sure? I never cut anyone’s hair before.”

“Yeah, it’s fine with me. I was thinking about a new haircut a while now, but I didn’t wanna bother mama and if I do it myself I might as well lay under a lawn mower. So that leaves you.”

Wade smiled at Peter and the way his eyes twinkled let his stomach jump. He had no time to return the grin, because Wade already stuck his head into the sink again, ruffling through his hair anew. It could’ve been comical, a guy Wade’s size bending down that low, trying not to bump his head, but it gave Peter opportunity to admire how Wade’s shoulders rolled with his movements and the imprint of his muscles on the shirt that hugged his back tight in that pose. And his thighs…

Snapping out of his daydream, Peter took a towel from a hook on the wall, draping it around Wade’s neck. He tried not to notice how pleasantly warm the air around Wade was. As Wade turned the water off again and rubbed his hair dry, Peter pulled the chair a bit more into the small room, so it stood right behind Wade. With the mirror right in front of them, Wade could at least see what Peter would be doing.

With a content sigh, Wade took the seat and wrapped the towel around his shoulders, looking at Peter through the mirror. He pushed his glasses up his nose, a tiny bit of perspiration already gathering around the frame.

“So… any ideas how you want it?”

“Nah – shorter somehow. Maybe… less on the sides but a bit more on top so I can comb it back?”

“You mean like a crew cut?”

“Yeah, but a little longer. I still wanna run my fingers through it.”

“Okay…” Peter murmured looking over the thick blond strands that still dripped with water. “But then we should do your sides with a razor and just shorten the rest. You got one?”

Wade hummed in thought and after searching through the cabinet beneath the sink it turned out that yes, they had. It looked old, but still worked even if Wade had to wrap the cable around his wrist to keep it running. Peter let Wade shave off the majority and only evened the edges out when Wade was sitting in front of him again, long strands collecting in his lap. When they both agreed that both sides looked about equally short, the much trickier part began. Wade’s hair was long and Peter had never ever cut anybody’s hair, so he started very slowly, brushing through the thick blond strands. He knew how his hair dresser made it, so Peter tried to mimic what he remembered – he picked up one strand with the comb and showed Wade in the mirror where he’d want to cut it – leaving him with about 5 inches. At Wade’s nod, Peter took the scissors and cut off the first lock of blond hair.

They didn't talk as Peter worked his way down the rest of Wade’s longer hair, comparing the strands to the ones he already cut. Having the opportunity to run his fingers through Wade’s hair shamelessly was at least one good thing about that sudden idea. That they had to be this close was a second.

It took Peter a while, the light in the living room changed from fresh white to a rich yellow, but in the end he was satisfied with his doing.

“Your hair feels much softer,” Peter told him as he ran his fingers through the blond strands that curled slightly now, a lazy smile on his face, “I’d love to braid it.”

Wade turned his head at that, eyes wide. It had only been a whisper, more spoken to himself than to Wade, but he obviously heard it. “You can braid?”

“Eh, yeah.”

“And… you’d braid my hair?”

The question made Peter grin and Wade’s eyes widened a little more in response, sparkling with awe. If Peter had known it had such an impact on Wade, he might’ve suggested it earlier.

“Sure I would.”

Wade made a noise somewhere between happy squeal and laughter, turning around immediately to let Peter set to work, hands tugged in between his knees. Peter carefully combed through the freshly cut hair, just to see the strands part in even golden rows. It took only moments and Wade’s eyes were closed, head lolling slightly. As Peter grazed his nape, he hummed softly.

Putting the comb into his pocket, Peter parted the first three strands at Wade’s hairline and slowly started braiding. He'd learned this back in fourth grade; they'd made keychains for mother’s day. After that, it became kind of a trend to have as much colorful ribbons on your keyring as possible – even if most kids only had two actual keys at that age; one for their bike lock, one for their front door. Peter remembered sittingt in the driveway, Uncle Ben had painted the garage behind him, and he had braided colorful plastic ribbons and thick threads of wool to give them to his mom and dad or tie them to his bag.

He needed two starts to get it right, but his fingers seemed to remember the movements much better than his brain and gradually, Peter worked his way down Wade’s skull. Through the moist air, the smell of the blond hair waved to Peter, much more intense than it normally was. Herbal and sweet, it tickled in his nose and lay on his tongue. Finally, Peter recognized the aroma.

“You smell like licorice.”

“Pah, you mean sweat.”

Peter pulled a tiny bit too rough at one strand, just enough to make Wade notice it.

“Stop that. I mean it. You just smell kinda sweet. Dunno reminds me of wet… earth and - … something flowery…” By the end of the sentence, Peter felt heat on his cheeks. _Way to embarrass yourself in front of your new pal, Peter_. He concentrated on his braiding ahain quickly, avoiding to look up and see Wade’s probably smug expression in the mirror.

But instead of a teasing nudge to his side, Wade reached for Peter’s wrist and ran his fingers down his forearm. Peter had to suppress a shiver, his breath shuddering. It was something about the way Wade didn’t really grab him, but just ran his fingertips over his skin gently.

Of course it wasn’t more than just a touch to show that Wade didn‘t mind the stupid comment – Wade usually was kinda touchy with people and how could it be anything if Wade was so amazingly beautiful and Peter was just his plain self… but Peter’s mind had already taken the feeling of Wade stroking Peter so softly, running a mile a minute with the input.

If he’d just stroke over his elbow, Wade would have to turn slightly towards Peter and he’d be able look at his pretty face, maybe run his fingers over the prominent jaw line. Peter wondered how that’d feel like. And if he was just a tiny bit bolder, he’d sit on Wade’s lap to simply look into his amber…

His breath hitched and Peter felt the blush spread over his neck. Since yesterday, it seemed like he couldn’t always get a grip on his imaginatio

Biting his lips, he quickly finished the braid and Wade handed him a hair tie, probably from his mom, a single crystal sparkling happily at the tip now. Peter smiled at his work and ran his fingers over the short stubble at the sides of Wade’s skull, heart still racing from the phantasy his mind had conjured. Wade made a sound that was almost a purr and tilted his head slightly.

With the intimacy he’d just imagined still whirling in his chest, Peter couldn’t bring himself to take his hands away. Enjoying the soft tingling sensation on his fingers, Peter stepped a little closer until Wade’s back leaned against his belly. When he brushed the point behind Wade’s ears, his head fell against Peter's chest with a sigh.

“Your hair feels nice…”

“You ruffling it feels nice too, baby-boy,” Wade answered with closed eyes and Peter chuckled, but didn’t miss how Wade’s voice lingered on the last word. He went back to scratching gently at Wade’s neck. “Please don’t stop.”

That sentence sent a much warmer wave through his body than a blush ever could. But as much as Peter would've liked to, his knee started to protest again and Wade's sister waited for them in the living room. Feeling bold, he pressed a soft kiss to the top of Wade's head and rubbed his shoulders. “We should go back to Wanda. See if she needs anything.”

Wade grumbled and Peter took that as a yes.

They cleaned the floor from all locks and strands and Wade went back to his room to grab a new shirt while Peter brought the chair back into the kitchen. Wade searched Peter’s bag for the movies he’d brought, handing Peter the game after he’d changed discs. Peter set down onto the edge of the couch with a huff, Wanda cradled against his chest, Wade smiling down at her.

The menu popped up and Peter noticed Wade had chosen _Megamind_. Wade took the space right next to Peter, falling into the cushions like a stone, after hitting the start button.

When the movie started with a loud intro Wanda made a soft mewling sound, so Wade scrambled for the remote on the other armrest, almost tackling Peter in the process. Immediately, his eyes went wide at the sudden contact and he quickly fumbled with the remote to turn down the volume, avoiding Peter's gaze and sitting awkwardly stiff. Peter rolled his eyes at that. How Wade could go back to be so unsure about touch right after they'd been so close while cutting hair and braiding Peter didn't know. He was well aware that Wade had finally stopped blocking his urge to talk a mile a minute, especially on their way to or from school, but now Wade was gnawing at his bottom lip again, eyes wide and scanning Peter like he expected to be kicked.

Leaning against Wade's side, Peter rested his head on Wade's shoulder. He hissed in surprise at the contact, but Peter simply looked down at Wanda, who'd already gone back to sleep, lying flat on Peter’s chest, snoring silently, and shrugged, innocent expression on his face. A voice started narrating and Peter focused his attention on the TV, leaving Wade no choice but to accept their closeness.

15 minutes into the movie, Peter finally felt Wade relax under the weight of his head and a hand sliding slowly around Peter's waist to hold onto one of Wanda's hands. Peter was sure Wade caught him smiling from the corner of his eye. He leaned into the touch, the butterflies in his stomach flying loopings.

Quickly, Peter was surrounded by Wade’s sweet scent and embraced by a second arm, now openly holding Peter, Wade’s cheek resting on Peter’s head. Gently caressing Wade’s palms with his fingers, Peter wondered why Wade was so unsure about contact when it came to Peter. Wade was normally so outgoing and sometimes almost intrusive in his way of interacting with people, talking about anything and switching topics so fast that he left others a little startled at first - pushing his own flood of words to a level that left little to no room to answer when he was really getting into top gear. But with Peter, it seemed like Wade tried very hard not to succumb to his usual behavior. He obviously didn’t always get a grip on the urge to be a little too close - he had to think back to the day they first met: how Wade had appeared out of nowhere and invaded Peter’s personal space; how he couldn’t help himself and asked if he could touch Peter’s face. But he’d been so quiet that first day and still was in certain situations.

What really surprised Peter was that it’d happened right now, after their… whatever it was in the bathroom. Of course it wasn’t what Peter wanted it to be – again, Wade was probably just touchy when he felt comfortable with somebody – but that was the thing. One moment Wade trusted Peter enough to let him cut his hair and the other he wasn’t sure whether he was allowed to touch Peter back when he was already propped against his shoulder.

Peter nestled into Wade’s warmth, his heartbeat drumming right under Peter’s ear. It would probably get better with time; their friendship was still new for god’s sake. What’d Peter expect?

Wanda rubbed her head against Peter and with a deep sigh, he told himself to take things a little easier.

_They had all the time in the world, right?_

The arms around him held Peter a little tighter when the protagonist celebrated his victory over the hero on screen.

_Summer was just about to start. They had a whole year to spend together as friends._

A deep chuckle rumbled in Wade’s chest.

_Wade would stop being so nervous sometimes._

Background music arose from the TV.

_And Peter would get a hold of that stupid crush._

Slowly, the screen became a little too bright, his eyes watery and his lids heavy. Peter remembered how he hadn't slept too much the night before and all the early mornings of the school week and that it was finally Friday. Wade's body was warm and comfortable. He couldn't suppress a yawn and closed his eyes, just for a second, to give them a tiny moment of rest. His limbs became heavy too. Slow drags of air flooded his lungs and brushed over his lips, the noise of the movie getting distant, until he only heard it as white noise, mixing with Wanda's snoring. The thought he’d just had – something about a word he’d just used for… something? – vanished.

Peter felt himself drift to sleep.

Two hands lifted his head and gently placed it on a pillow, before the big body right next to him rose and tiptoed away from the couch. _Maybe Wade's thirsty, or has to pee..._ Peter thought at last right before his mind went blank, thinking about nothing anymore and fell asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In case you guys wanna know: I'll do a livestream writing on my birthday (22.09.) 19:45 London time right [here](https://picarto.tv/koneion).


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me torture you a little ♥
> 
> (THOSE CHAPTER KEEP GETTING LONGER AND LONGER DAMMIT)

It wasn’t the kind of sleep that was deep and comforting, more like a much needed nap. Wanda stretched herself and kicked with her feet much too often for Peter to be completely switched off. Nevertheless, when the front door closed with a bang, Peter felt like somebody slapped him; heart skipping several beats and diaphragm twitching. He quickly grabbed Wanda before she could slide off his chest, feeling even more tired than before the short nap.

Startled, Peter sat up and saw Wade entering the living room, pants muddy and cheeks red. As he realized Peter was awake, he stared at him, mouth hanging slightly open, face illuminated by the light of the TV.

Even though they were some feet apart, Peter felt the cool air Wade had brought into the room from outside on his skin. A shiver ran down his spine. It had to be late, it was dark outside already and Peter didn’t hear any cars on the street. Why had Wade been outside? And why this long? Why did he look so… weary?

Peter cradled Wanda closer and stood up, looking up and down Wade’s dark silhouette. The bridge of his nose hurt where his glasses had pressed into his skin while he’d slept.

“Where have you been?”

“Nowhere...” avoiding his gaze, Wade dragged his foot over the ground, “Why aren’t you sleeping?”

“I was, you woke me up. But Wade… seriously, where have you been? It’s like almost midnight…”

Wade didn’t give a response, only shrugged his shoulders and pushed the hood off his head. An uneasy feeling spread in Peter’s stomach. “Why won’t you tell me?”

A shaky sigh came over Wade’s lips and he rolled his head from one side to the other, rubbing his neck with one hand. “Okay, but don’t freak out.”

The air got stuck in his lungs and Peter couldn't answer to that, just raised an eyebrow at Wade to show he was listening.

“I… went to Jason’s house and found his bike on the front lawn and... Okay, Pete, I got so mad and I took it before I even knew what I did, I swear! But- I thought about that black eye and your knee and everything he did to you and how you couldn’t walk and how I found you on the schoolyard and I was so scared when I saw you there and I… I… I took it and drove it into a fence and the handle broke off and I took it and threw it at his house and broke his window.”

It was like his guts had vanished, a sickening tingling exploding behind his ribs.

“What?”

“I… Don’t tell me he didn’t earn it! He… Peter he fuckin’ hurt you! He could’ve broken your bones!”

“I KNOW. I WAS THERE.” Peter gritted his teeth and had to remind himself to not crush Wanda against his chest. He put her down into her crib, trying to calm his voice so she wouldn’t start crying. “I’ve told you you mustn’t do this, that it’s none of your business to protect me – or avenge or whatever. Why did you even leave for this? Did you... did you plan this??”

“You said I had to care of Wanda first! So I did, you were here with her and I... Peter, he hurt you! You were fucking bleeding!“ 

Clenching his fists, Peter stomped closer, staring angrily at Wade. “Listen carefully: You don’t. Have to. Protect me, okay? I told you I don’t want it, I told you! But instead of listening to me, you what? Thought I didn't _mean_ it??!”

“I-”

“Is it because I’m younger? You think I’m weak? ‘Cause then your first a terrible friend and second dead wrong because I am not weak.”

“But I-”

Peter felt heat rise in his cheeks and Wade actually backed away a bit when Peter vigorously crossed his arms in front of his chest.

“No, nothing but! Yeah, they beat me up pretty bad! But that doesn’t entitle you to do the same to them or assume I couldn’t stand up for myself if I wanted to!”

“Petey-“

“It doesn’t make you one tiny bit better than them! That’s why I told you to not do it! I wanna solve this by being the better person and not lower myself on their level and you shouldn’t too!”

“Let me just-“

“How dare you do this on my behalf? Just… why, Wade, why would you do this!??”

Suddenly, Wade grabbed his hair with both his hands, pulling strands out of his braid, avoiding Peter gaze, making a high squeak. He seemed to fight the words, his mouth opening and closing until he gripped Peter’s shoulders, pulling him to his tiptoes, his face suddenly close.

“Because I really like you!”

Peter’s heart dropped. Stopped beating altogether. It felt like the floor had opened and Peter was falling. Wade’s heavy breaths hit Peter’s cheeks and his scent had replaced the oxygen in the air. It felt like drowning. And flying. Like being torn apart.

“Like… really like you.”

The amber eyes looked down at Peter with such severity he physically felt the pressure on his chest. A blush spread over Wade’s face.

The front door opened and shut close and Peter jumped out of Wade’s grip, a pang of pain rushing through his knee. The reality stormed back into his consciousness with full force, Wanda’s whining being the most urgent sensation. It was like to many thoughts tried to force themselves onto Peter, too many emotions rushing through his veins and suddenly, Peter felt calm. His mind went blank. He turned his back at Wade and bent over Wanda to sooth her.

“Wady, I’m home! Oh, my god, your hair! How short! But, aw, darling, you look gorgeous.”

A woman appeared in the door, thick blonde hair barely tamed in a messy ponytail, dark circles under her blue eyes, blouse crinkled. Peter looked up, withdrawing his hand. She looked exhausted and so much like Wade it physically hit Peter like a stroke – the blonde hair, her mouth and nose, the way her eyes crinkled with the grin she wore despite looking like she hadn’t slept in weeks. That had to be Wade’s mom.

Peter had completely forgotten she was supposed to be home anytime; since he hand't never seen her before - Wade said she worked a lot - he hadn’t suspected her to show up, he’d simply forgotten about her, that Wade actually had to have a mom. Heat spread on Peter’s cheeks, he hoped she hadn’t heard him shout at Wade. What a great first impression he must be.

“Hello Miss Wilson.”

“Hi! Aw, you’re Peter, aren’t ya?” Her smile was tired but happy as her gaze found Peter, but Wade suddenly looked strained, jaw line tight like he bit his tongue. “You know, Wady talks about you all the time.” Her voice sounded a little hoarse, even more audible because she sounded a tiny bit too loud, like Wade did often, like she had been speaking too much during the day. Even that reminded Peter of Wade.

“Lemme be embarrassing for a sec here, okay? I swear I’m gonna disappear right away, bu’ I ain’t never got time to be mommy-y with jus’ my babies around." She kissed Wade's cheek with a bright grin, before looking Peter up and down. "You knwo, he speaks of nothin’ but you when I ask ’im about his day. Peter and I ate lunch t’gether, Peter told me ‘bout his new science project, Peter lemme walk ‘im home. I hear your name more than anything else, sweetie.”

She laughed softly and stroked over Wade’s new braid, her words still echoing in Peter’s ears. Suddenly, a heavy weight appeared in his stomach and Peter heard his heartbeat in his ears. He remembered how Wade had looked at him when they first met., Wade's confession echoing in Peter's mind.

“Wady’sn’t normally so lucky with people, I’m so happy he found you. And since Logan’s working in the afternoons, he and Wade can’t meet that often anymore…”

He thought somebody had watched him during lunch. He thought it was because of the black eye, but what if it… wasn’t?

“They used to play a lot when they were smaller, Logan practically lived here. Did Wade already tell you about him? He’s the neighbor’s boy, but by now I could ‘s well call him my second son. You’ll eventually meet him if you stay the weekend.”

Wade had sat right next to him; so close he could’ve counted the freckles on his cheeks.

“You know, you’re the first friend he brought home from school ever.”

He had talked about Peter’s black eye and… he had given him advice. Didn’t he even ask whether he could touch it?

“Has me wonderin’ sometimes. Like… you know him now, don’t ya and he’s so sweet. Aw, don’t give me that look, darling, I’m sure he knows what I mean.”

He’d wanted to help Peter with the injury just like he did with his knee yesterday - just… just as if he’s been worried about him that first day already.

“He’s so sweet I don’t even know where he got that from. And he’s so-“

Wade didn’t have any other friends in school, rarely talked to people at school, only strangers. The only times he’d seen him like that first day and yesterday was when he was with Wanda. Like… when he _loved_ someone he was-

“-caring. My boy’s so good, isn’t he.”

All the small touches. The glances and the walking home and to school. All this time Wade had already liked him. All this time.

Peter choked back a heavy gasp.

All this time Wade had liked Peter… that way. And all this time he hadn’t noticed.

“Ah, sorry boys. You’re probably tired – I know I am. Hope Wanda was a good girl, you had no problems with her?”

“Uhm, no Miss Wilson.”

She threw her jacket over the backrest of the couch and Peter could see how thin she was, the blouse and skirt hanging from her slouching figure, a run making its way up her tights. She lifted Wanda from her crib and looked her over, before she hugged her to her chest with a sleepy smile. “Call me Roxy, sweetie, everyone does. Wade, you gonna sleep on the couch?”

“‘f course mama.”

“See, that’s what I meant: my lil' gentleman. Make yourself at home and don’t stay up too late, kids. Love you darling, g’night Peter.”

“Night, mama.”

“Good night Miss… Roxy.”

She left yawning, but still managed to wink at Peter. Now he knew where Wade got that from.

Peter stared at Wade, his heart hammering in his throat and his fingers numb, finally clenching them to fists. All that was too much to take, and Peter exhaled, shaking his head.

“I’ll go to bed now.”

Wade looked like he wanted to say something, shoulders strained and piercing gaze directed at Peter, but after a moment of loaded silence, he just nodded and took a blanket from the armchair and spread it over the couch. Peter turned his back at the scene and disappeared to brush his teeth.

Wade had already told him he’d sleep on the couch because his room was too small to fit a second mattress in there anyhow and wanted Peter to have his bed, so Peter could just walk past Wade, trying to ignore his hurt expression. On his way, he grabbed his bag, then changed in Wade’s room and closed the door without wishing Wade goodnight.

Wade’s room was really not that big; with a desk crammed with papers, shirts and dirty dishes in the one corner and his bed and wardrobe in the other, there was only room to move from chair to bed or get dressed. After he took off his glasses, Peter fell onto the mattress sluggishly, the soft light falling through the window dancing over the piles of stuff.

He felt exhausted, both physically and mentally but now, away from Wade and with nothing else to distract him but his own mind, his thoughts slowly came back and made it impossible for him to sleep.

Wade had practically told Peter he loved him.

Wade had decided to avenge Peter even though he knew he didn’t want that.

Wade had wanted to help him.

Wade willingly took the risk of harming another person.

Even if it was Jason.

And he might have earned that somehow.

But that wasn’t the point. Peter had told him it was none of his business and Wade had decided to ignore that. To ignore him.

And Wade loved him.

And always, always Wade.

One part of his brain wanted to fling himself into Wade’s arms and never leave that safe space, where he could smell Wade’s skin, the other was still boiling with fury.

Harry’s warning rose from Peter’s memory, teasing him how he’d been right all along. Wade probably was the one who’d beaten up Bob, like Harry had said and now he’d taken the risk to actually hurt someone and destroyed at least a window and a bike just on a whim.

It had been such a nice day, why did it have to end so badly?

Tossing and turning, he repeated Wade’s words over and over in his head, replayed his expressions again and again. It felt like something lay on his chest and made breathing harder with every drag of air and every thought circling in his mind. It was in vain. He couldn’t even think about sleeping. Peter opened his eyes, his head spinning and watched the light slowly shift through the room. How much time might’ve passed? An hour? More?

The sheets smelled of Wade and hugged him like Wade had just done on the sofa. The weight shifted from his chest to his stomach.

Yeah, everything considered Peter probably had to admit that it wasn’t only friendship he felt for Wade – not when a stupid grin wouldn’t leave his face every time Wade picked him up or if he caught himself wondering what it’d be like to have Wade’s rough voice whispering all his cheerful chatter into his ear, hands entwined. His heart still fluttered at the thought.

But if Peter was really being honest with himself right now, he also had to admit that he’d never expected Wade to return those feelings in any other way but non-romantically. Wade was just… if he wanted too, he was funny and charming, considerate in his own, a little too intimate way. And handsome. If he dropped his stupid aggressive behavior, he could have any girl he wanted. Compared to girls like maybe Gwen from his science class, with her long shiny hair, bright eyes and lovely smile, Peter was just small and plain and – _oh right_ a boy.

Prejudices weren’t normally a thing Peter liked to put on people, it was just… What where the odds of Wade being… And if even if he was… that’d didn’t make Peter any more appealing in questions of appearance.

Did that mean if he _liked_ Wade, he maybe was… ?

He gave up his attempts to go to sleep and stared at the ceiling, where Wade had pinned some posters of Beyoncé and one of The Land Before Time, rolling his thoughts over in his head.

In the end, he pushed himself up and swung his legs out of bed, shivering at the contact of cold floor and warm feet. Opening the door as soundless as possible, he sneaked out of the room and into the living room, where he saw Wade’s arms hanging over the armrest of the couch. In the dim light falling through the windows, Peter could see that Wade’s eyes were open. He arched an eyebrow as soon as he saw Peter’s silhouette.

For a moment, all Peter did was just standing there, feeling Wade’s gaze taking him in and the chill creeping over his skin and causing goose bumps. Wade’s blond hair still reflected the tiny bit of light, his skin radiating with warmth. The urge to press their cheeks against each other bloomed pink and embarrassingly fast in his chest.

“Petey?“ Wade finally asked, blinking up at him, mixed feelings playing over his features.

Peter reached forward and grabbed Wade’s hand, the warm palm a stark contrast to the cold floor on his feet.

“Just come with me.”

Wade stared at Peter, but he simply turned his back at him and pulled him gently away from the couch and led Wade into his room. He followed silently, the only noise being the silent taps of naked feet.

They entered Wade’s small room and Peter closed the door behind them, then stepped up to Wade and took his time taking in his face: the braid was messy now from tossing and turning, dark circles beneath Wade’s glassy eyes, but his gaze resting on Peter’s cheeks. Wade’s shoulders were slouching, hiding himself in the hoodie he still wore and he looked so miserable that Peter knew he hadn’t gotten a minute of sleep as well.

Peter huffed and Wade glanced up, meeting Peter’s eyes as he started to whisper.

“Whatever you’re feelings towards me are is no excuse for not listening to what I said.”

Wade nodded and nervously rubbed his elbow. “I know…”

“In fact, if you really like me, you should respect me and my opinion.”

A choked noise left Wade’s mouth, like a little sob Wade tried to convert into a hum half-way up his throat. The thought that Wade had probably been up imagining the things Peter would have to say to him crossed Peter’s mind. He wondered what Wade had expected.

“And I will _not_ , be your friend as long as I can’t trust you to do so. I can’t stress that enough.”

“Peter-“

“Let me finish. I am really disappointed, I hope you see why. I can’t tolerate this happening a second time. You understand?”

Wade bit his bottom lip and blinked rapidly, head tilting forward. His voice sounded shaky. “Yeah… and I… I wanted to- Petey, I’m sorry, okay? I'm really sorry. It doesn’t make up for anything but… I- I wanted you to know before...” He trailed off, quiet sobs interrupting the silence that followed, sniffling as he wiped his hand over his cheek hastily.

Peter watched him calm down, waiting for Wade’s breath to steady again.

“Thank you. Then let’s go to bed again… my feet feel like they’re gonna fall off and I’m freaking tired.”

Rubbing over his eyes with the heel of his hand, he reached for Wade’s pullover with the other and tugged gently while he knelt onto the mattress. Wade didn’t move an inch.

“You… you mean you’re not gonna go?”

“Well, do you promise to never do anything that stupid again?”

Wade stared down at Peter with shiny eyes, shaking his head slowly, like he couldn’t believe what he had heard.

“Never.”

In response, Peter showed Wade a small, reassuring smile and entwined their fingers. “You’ve made a mistake and we’ll try to make up for it tomorrow. Can’t do much about it now.”

He felt Wade’s hand shake a tiny bit and at the thought of what he wanted to say next, Peter’s heart suddenly beat in his throat. But with darkness enveloping them like a thick blanket and only them being awake, alone in the small room, Peter felt bold.

“So… you gonna join me or what?” His eyes darted to the bed in his back for a second, making his suggestion as clear as possible. Wade wasn’t easily left speechless, but that was one of those rare moments. He stood over him, his eyes slowly widening, jumping from Peter to the bed and back, before he moved a tiny bit closer.

“What?”

The skin on his neck prickled with a blush and Peter gnawed at the inside of his cheek, but now it was out and his heart fluttered like a hummingbird. He rubbed his sweaty palms over his naked thighs.

“I feel better now and I accept your apology. It’s fine and… I haven’t forgotten what you said and… well… I really like you too.” He only breathed the last part. Peter was lucky it was dark, so Wade wouldn’t see his blush. He probably could imagine it anyway.

Instead of giving and answer, Wade watched Peter shift on the mattress, while the widest, happiest grin spread on his lips. Peter felt the blood rush through his cheeks as Wade wrapped his arms around Peter’s chest and pulled him against him, hiding his face in Peter’s neck.

His scent was overwhelming up so close, blond strands tickling Peter’s ear and heat radiating from his body. Peter grabbed the material of Wade’s hoodie and enjoyed how Wade’s nose grazed his skin, the sensation of the warm, calm breath tickling right under the hem of his shirt.

“Say that again, please.”

Peter chuckled. “I really like you, Wade.”

Tightening his grip a little, Wade rolled them over until they lay chest to chest, Peter’s head on Wade’s biceps. He still watched him with that radiant smile

“You do?”

“Yeah.”

A mix between a sob and a chuckle hitched in Wade's throat as he buried his face in Peter's hair. He felt Wade's lips move against his scalp with gentle whispers.

"I thought you hated me now. I thought you'd leave in the morning and I'd never see you again, that you wouldn't speak to me in school and I... I feel horrible. I don't want you to think that I think you’re weak.” He tightened his embrace and Peter tilted his head to observe Wade’s face as he spoke. “You’re not weak. Man, sometimes I wish I was as strong as you; like when I get angry or I… when I get lost when I speak too much and you always know what to say.”

Peter didn’t hide the smile tugging at the corner of his mouth and ran a finger over the seams on Wade’s sleeve.

“Never thought you’d like me back.”

“Neither did I.”

Wade still stared down at him, one hand clenched in Peter’s shirt and the other playing with his hair. A long pause arose, where they just looked at each other, still overwhelmed by the significance of what happened. Wade’s bed wasn’t made for two people, at least not if one of them was Wade with his broad shoulders, so they ended up entwining their legs and Wade hugged Peter closer. It was the safest Peter had ever felt. With his ear now pressed to Wade’s chest, he could hear his heart pound rapidly and felt quick breaths brushing in his hair. As Wade spoke, his voice sounded husky, the grin still clearly hearable. 

“You have no idea how you make me feel. I don’t think I can sleep like this, baby boy.”

He chuckled, but quickly turned it into huff of feigned annoyance. Peter closed his eyes and listened to the drags of air whooshing soothingly beneath Wade’s pecs. Finally, his mind went quiet and he felt warm all over.

“Guess it’s gonna be a long night for you then.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love you all for sticking with me, seriously ♥♥♥


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry I let you guys down a bit. I restarted college and my theatre group had this big play debut. Ah, this gave me such a hard time – it was double the length originally, but it didn’t work out and I had to cut so much. I’m sorry.
> 
> Hope you still somehow enjoy this.
> 
> (number of chapters might extend a tiny bit)

Warmth enveloped him pleasantly. It lay around him, on his face, feet and legs and especially radiated at his chest. Peter blinked awake against the light falling into Wade’s room - the window faced an empty backyard and judging by the color of the sky, Peter thought it might be around noon.

The tips of blond hair tickled his mouth and cheeks and as Peter tried to move, he was held back by Wade’s arms that were wrapped tightly around him, one leg swung over his hips to keep him close.

A soft snoring came from somewhere near Peter’s chest, protesting against his attempts to slip out of the embrace. Smiling, he buried his nose in Wade’s blond hair, enjoying the feeling of being enveloped in warmth and sweet, familiar scent.

He sighed silently and looked down at the sleeping body snuggled so close to his, the pullover ridden up over his hip and exposing a part of his lower back. Peter absent-mindedly ran his fingers over the hem of the pullover trying to maybe go back to sleep for just some minutes, but as his fingers brushed the naked skin, he looked down startled. Instead of smooth skin, he’d felt a rough, bumpy patch. Reaching over Wade's shoulder, moving as slow as possible not to wake him Peter pulled the pullover up a tiny bit more, just an inch or two so he could see his back.

His eyes went wide.

Big parts of what he saw of Wade’s skin were of a dark red color and scarred, the skin either stretching a bit too tight over his body or forming uneven patterns that seemed to go on further beneath the pullover. Peter swallowed heavily. What was that? Were those remains of fights Wade had had? Or from an accident? How far did that even go up? Oh god, did it still hurt?

Peter tilted his head to see more of the scars without lifting more of Wade’s clothing, worrying his bottom lip between his teeth. It looked bad - old, but like they at least hurt a lot when he got them and parts of the marks were scabby. He couldn’t help himself but touch the skin again, feeling the bumpy scars.

Suddenly, Wade twitched, a soft sound escaping his lips like a muffled, still sleepy laugh. Peter gasped and withdrew his hand quickly, but beneath the blond strands, Wade’s eyelids fluttered and opened, a smile already half-formed on his lips as he blinked awake before it faltered when he felt the cold air on his waist. Peter looked back and forth between Wade’s face and the scars on his back and as Wade followed his gaze, he quickly fumbled to pull the fabric back over his skin.

Peter’s cheeks turned red immediately and a weight seemed to drop in his stomach, replacing any left sleepiness with guilt and shame. Obviously, Wade had tried to hide the scars – Peter became painfully aware that he’d never seen Wade without a sweater or hoodie before. He’d always kept it on and Peter hadn’t thought much into it, not even when he’d literally asked himself if Wade wasn’t melting in his clothes.

Oh no. This was bad.

Surely now Wade would be mad at him, or even worse: hurt. Of course right after finally something good happened to Peter, he had to destroy it the next-

“Sorry, Petey.”

-second. _Wait, what_?

“’S not really what people wanna see on the guy they just snuggled with, eh?”

The glance Wade shot him made something in his chest wrench. Did he actually feel guilty for the way he looked? Did he really think some scars would make Peter feel disgusted when they’d just spent the night in the same bed? 

He took a deep breath to process these thoughts.

“No, no, no it’s not like that… look _I_ should be sorry. You didn’t wanna show these and I just... looked at you when you were sleeping? Sorry, okay?

Wade shrugged with the shoulder he wasn’t lying on.

“’S okay… you’d have seen them sooner or later, just glad you’re not freakin’ out. It’s kinda really ugly.”

“Uhm, I wouldn’t say ugly, but… unique I guess?” Peter gnawed at the inside of his cheek, eyes flickering up to Wade’s face before looking down again to where the pullover hid the red scars.

He shouldn't ask any further, right? He totally shouldn’t.

“Do they… still hurt?”

“Nah. Feels kinda numb actually. Just gets itchy sometimes and- wait, I’ll stop here. Disgusting stuff is not sweet morning talk.” Wade shook his head slightly, fingers grabbing at Peter’s shirt. With his cheek almost resting on Peter’s chest and the amber eyes following the movements of his fingers, he looked incredibly young. Peter swallowed a lump in his throat.

“It’s not disgusting.”

He put his hand back on Wade’s side, trying to show he wasn’t put off or minding the marks in any way. He couldn’t feel anything beneath the thick material, but still moved his fingers in small, soothing circles. To think that Wade was embarrassed to have these, maybe even afraid of the reactions he’d get when somebody saw them, stung again.

They lay in silence for a while, both breathing in unison, feeling the fabric shift over them as they both played with each other’s clothing. Wade seemed somewhat relaxed again, so Peter decided he might as well ask more about the scars, now that he’d seen them.

“How’d you even get them?”

Wade didn’t answer right away, fumbling to smooth a wrinkle in Peter’s shirt. After taking a moment to noticeably consider what to say, he just whispered: “My dad…”

What. WHAT.

Peter’s mouth opened and closed without a sound coming over his lips and his eyes went wide at that, staring down at Wade until the other looked up. Gaze fixed on Peter’s face, he huffed silently and pulled his pullover up so the majority of his left side was exposed. Peter gaze immediately loomed over the damage on Wade’s skin.

Like he’d thought, the red marks ran up higher over his back – it looked like a burn, though around his shoulder blades, bubble shaped knots extended with the irregular patterns stretched over him. They looked much more sensitive than the rest.

For a second, the breath got stuck in Peter’s lungs – not because he felt disgusted, but his whole stomach seemed to be filled with ice cold water. He couldn’t even start imagining what it must’ve felt like getting these wounds, having them freshly bleeding, stinging and burning all over your back, leaving you immovable. He really wanted to reach for Wade’s hands, but they were tensed up in the fabric, knuckles white.

“The big ones are from when my dad strangled my mom and I tried to push him away. He dragged me over the carpet over and over. Hurt like hell. Didn’t go to school for two weeks.”

A horrible cold wave ran down Peter’s spine, the feeling pooling in his guts and he shivered at the thought of Wade being treated like that, or his mom… He clenched his hands to fists. Peter hadn’t asked if he’d known... that. Never. He hadn't expected that. He had expected seomthing like a really bad case of chicken pox, or a really bad allergy as a child. Not a reminder of an abusive parent.

Peter wanted to swallow all those hard emotions, but his mouth was so dry he barely managed a cough. Wade seemed to be lost in his thoughts, his fingertips running over his scarred skin before he pulled his pullover down again. Even with his face turned away, Peter saw the dark color of his cheeks.

“Look, I wanna be honest with you. I’m not actually boyfriend material, okay? People will tell you things about me, things I did and most of them might be true to some point. People say I’m a weirdo, even my dad said that. There might be a screw or two loose up here.”

Wade knocked against his head with his knuckles and Peter raised an eyebrow.

“Why’d you think that? People tell me I’m weird too, like all the time.”

“Yeah, but you’re that sweet kinda weird, you know… the kind you fall for, not run from. You’re awkward in a cute way, with that enthusiasm when you talk about your photos and sparkle in your eyes?”

“Pssh."Peter gently punched Wade's chest at that. "What do you even mean with ‘weird’?”

“Like… sometimes I feel like people are watching me, or laughing at me?”

“Sometimes you get that feeling that people talk about you, but everyon-“

“No, not like that. Like… right now watching. Like...” His eyes drifted off to somewhere behind Peter, fixing a point right above his head. “Right there.”

Peter turned his head, but there was nothing to be seen and he looked back at Wade, who seemed lost in his thoughts.

“Wade… there’s nothing there. It’s just a wall.”

“Yeah… just the fourth wall of my room…”

Wade furrowed his brows before he snapped out of it and looked up at Peter. He looked disappointed and exhausted.

“I’m a mess.”

Wade slung his arms around him, tightening his grip like he was afraid to let go. 

Peter couldn’t really deny that, so he nodded slightly and draped his arms around Wade neck.

“Yeah, but you’re my mess now.” 

With his legs pulled up, Wade curled himself against Peter, but he thought he saw a small smile tug at the corners of Wade’s mouth. The atmosphere in the room seemed to brighten a bit and Peter arched into the hug.

After thinking for quite some time about what it’d be like to lie that close and imagining the feeling of them wrapped in each other’s arms, after everything that had happened during the last days, it was almost surreal to be right there, in Wade’s room with Wade rubbing his head against Peter’s chest like he was a huge cat.

Peter slightly scratched his fingers over Wade’s neck, until a deep hum resounded from Wade’s throat. He tilted his head back a little and blinked tiredly at Peter. A pleasant shiver ran down Peter’s spine and a smile tugged at the corners of his mouth.

Wade’s focus swam a little forth and back, but his mouth opened and closed in a silent gulp, drawing Peter’s gaze to his mouth. It was red and swung in a pretty curve, looking as sweet as Wade smelled. Following the hot feeling in his chest, Peter bent down until their noses touched, Wade’s eyes now big and fixed at him. Their warm breaths mixed and soft drags of air ran over Peter’s chin, before he brushed Wade’s lips with his, a tickling sensation, barely a touch.

More than hearing it, Peter felt his name roll over Wade’s lips.

Closing his eyes, Peter pulled Wade’s head closer and pressed their mouths together in a gentle kiss.

At first it was just light pressure, smooth skin on chapped lips, butterfly light touches, their hands rooming their backs, gripping at the fabric gently. Wade slung his arms and legs around Peter, the sweet pecks they sprinkled their lips with slowly becoming one kiss, lips sliding against each other, nose tips brushing.

Quickly, Peter felt his heart hammering in his throat and his breath shuddering as they finally pulled apart. Peter saw the huge grin on his lips mirrored on Wade’s mouth.

“So… you said something about _boyfriend material_ …”

The grin on Wade’s face widened. “Yeah.”

“Yeah, uhm, well… I’m not actually that great myself… I drink milk from the carton and I get sick at least twice a year and then I’m really unbearable – like my own aunt and uncle hate me then. I forget capping the toothpaste and I never throw away old shirts.”

“Oh, so severe human disaster-case?”

“Totally.” Peter nodded, twirling a finger around one strand of blond hair. “Point is… when I’m having a loose screw or two and you don’t have all your marbles… maybe _together_ we’d…?”

He couldn’t bring himself to say it, but Wade’s eyes glistened at Peter’s words as he took in Peter’s face, chin resting on Peter’s breastbone.

“Are you asking me to be your boyfriend, Parker?”

The whisper was silent and deep, the vibration of his voice rumbling through Peter’s chest. Butterflies swirled in his stomach. Peter huffed silently, feeling a blush spread on his cheeks. “Guess so, Wilson.”

In response, Wade reached up and pulled Peter’s head down again, pressing a gentle kiss to his lips as their legs entwined.


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oh man, you can tell 10 and 11 were supposed to be one chapter, but really, writing that is emotionally so exhausting, I had to split it up to get anywhere with this.  
> I couldn't thoroughly proofread this. My baby... too many emotions in my chest, seriously. If there's any mistake, please let me know. If anything sounds off to you, let me know. If anything doesn't add up... let me know.
> 
> I love all of you.
> 
> More talk about abusive parent in this one.

Nestled in their shared warmth, Peter thought he might just sink into sunshine, with Wade’s smile pressed against his collarbone. Hair tickled his face, sweet smelling and the moment was so light and promising, Peter would’ve wished for it to stay forever.

“You know, I’d never thought you liked me,” he whispered into the whirls and curls at his lips.

Wade chuckled in response, arms around Peter’s waist. “Why wouldn’t I?”

Peter shrugged, twirling that sweet hair around his fingers - so beautifully blond, unlike his boring brown strands.

“Because you don’t… well… look like you would be into me.”

Wade tilted his head until he could look into Peter’s eyes, brows furrowed and Peter suddenly felt bad about what he'd said.

“How can you look like ‘being into somebody’?”

“Uh, well… like” Peter felt himself blush and buried his toes in the sheets, overly aware of Wade’s legs slung over his hip. “Like… _you_ you’re all buff and blond hair, amber eyes… you could have any girl you wanted.” For a moment, Wade only stared at him, then slowly raised an eyebrow, gaze fixed on Peter. Repeating the words to himself, he started squirming under Wade’s piercing stare. “Sorry, that was a dumb thing to say.”

“Kinda…”

Silence fell between them, but Peter took it as a good sign that Wade didn’t pull away. He still felt a faint tingling on his cheeks and quickly rested his head on top of Wade’s so he wouldn’t see it.

Awkwardly clearing his throat, he went for the obvious topic to break the heavy quietness.

“Soo… you’re into guys?”

“Dunno. I just think I am… into people??” He shrugged and rubbed his cheek against Peter, soothing the last bit of tension from his back. “You remember that guy my mom mentioned? Logan? A while back I thought he was my first crush.”

His voice was calm as he spoke, though lacking the usual rumbling in his chest. Turning his attention away from the wonderful ways Wade's body fit against his, Peter listened to the story rolling off Wade's lips as soon as he'd started to speak.

“He’s living right behind us with his grandpa… A few years back, when things with dad started getting ugly, he’d climb over the fence at least once a day, hanging out with me in the back yard. He never really said anything like that, but I think his old gramps wasn’t the best company either. I only saw him twice – one time at Halloween, when he threw a beer can at me and once on the street, not even looking at me, old bastard he was. Died a while back. Anyhow, Logan spent almost every day with me – he’s like 6 years older than me and I was only 10 at the time. I thought he’d hung the moon, I tell ya. Played with me out there or showed me how to throw a punch. In return, my mom fixed him up when he showed up with cuts or bruises – she trained to be a nurse, but never finished that.”

So that’s where Wade got all that knowledge about treating bruises and injuries – he got it from his mom. She probably told him whenever… a lump formed in Peter’s throat as he thought about that… the scars… How often had Wade been hurt so bad that his mom had to take care of his wounds? He suppressed a shudder from running over his body.

“Logan had to quit school when his gramps finally bit the dust, is only working since then to pay the bills and keep the house; didn’t really have any time left for me then. I knew it wasn’t his fault, but it was kinda hard for me to not see him that often anymore. Felt like I lost a brother somehow.”

Wade stopped for a moment, rubbing his hand over his temple, but Peter suspected he took the second to shove aside whatever memories had surfaced at that.

“Anyhow, some months after that mom got pregnant again. She told me long before my dad noticed it – he left the night after he found out. Took all his stuff and was gone without a word. Was the best thing that could’ve happened to us, seriously. Plus that lost brother was replaced by a baby sister.”

Peter nodded slowly, letting all the information sink in without knowing where to put it. He didn’t want to start what Wade had to endure with his dad. His uncle and aunt would never lay a hand on him, neither would his parents ever. How could one even… _do_ these things to his child or girlfriend? And to think that Wanda might have to endure the same if Wade’s dad hadn’t left before she was born… Peter couldn’t bring himself to finish that thought.

Suddenly, he was thankful for Wade’s firm, warm body hugging him tight. Sneaking his fingers under the hem and running them over the traces of the gruesome treatment, he let his breath ghost through Wade’s blond strands.

“Thanks for trusting me, I guess.”

Wade snorted with laughter.

“You call it trust, they’ll call it a poor excuse for giving my backstory.”

“Hm?”

But Wade shook his head, hiding his head in Peter’s shirt, breath hot and damp on Peter’s skin. “Never mind. Got distracted… sorry.”

Nudging Peter’s chin with the tip of his nose, Wade worried his bottom lip until Peter smiled and pulled him up into a real hug.

“So… what we gonna do today?”


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Haha, again not proof-read. Time is an illusion, the universe is a hologram.
> 
> Trying to churn out a chapter a day during december again. We'll see how that works.

They stayed in Wade’s bed until they felt too hot under the blankets and their stomach’s started growling.

Wade’s mom had to have seen the cold covers on the couch and should have drawn the conclusion _where_ exactly Wade slept, but she didn’t say anything or even shot them a knowing glance. Peter had half expected it. He was sure his aunt would have.

Their breakfast consisted of leftover pizza Wade and his mom had had some days ago, while his mom sat across the table, her head in one and steaming cup of coffee in the other hand, a towel hanging over her shoulders and wet hair dripping onto the table. The bags beneath her eyes were still dark; Peter guessed she rarely got much sleep. Wade leaned against Peter’s shoulder, stuffing his face with pepperoni pizza while Peter munched at a slice of double cheese.

Now that the atmosphere was less loaded than it had been the night before, Peter took his time to discover the similarities between Wade and his mother. Their hair was of the same color – honey blond and glistening golden in the sunlight, Wade’s wavy and his mom’s heavy with thick locks. With their dark eyebrows are and curvy lips, their faces were beautifully expressive.

Only their eyes differed in color.

When Wade’s mom left for work, she kissed Wade on his cheek and ruffled through Peter’s hair, leaving him startled by the affectionate gesture.

After she’d left and they’d done the dishes and cleaned the kitchen, they took Wanda to the backyard and let her crawl over the grass and let her rip out hands full of grass.

Wade was quick to wrap Peter into an embrace again, holding him against his front. When he began spreading soft kisses over Peter’s neck and ear, he felt his face heat and butterflies swirling in his stomach. Being pressed against Wade didn’t leave him with much space to move, but is body was solid and warm in his back so Peter snuggled into the touch and let himself be pulled into Wade’s lap as he sat down on the grass.

The day slowly went by as they slouched in the grass, the sun making its way over the sky of a nice Saturday. More than once, Peter tried to show Wade how to braid his own hair without a mirror, though Peter doubted he’d be able to do his hair even if he had one plus a third arm. How could fingers that were so careful when it came to wounds, so skillful when he put band aids on skin or cleaned cuts, be so numb and clumsy when he was trying to braid his hair. Wade actually managed to knot his strands so horribly that Peter had feared he’d have to cut it out. Luckily, after almost half an hour of cautiously pulling at strands and untangling locks, Peter could run his hands through Wade’s hair again. He wasn’t as bothered by the incident as he tried to convince Wade of – at least he’d gotten a great excuse to have Wade lying in his lap and play with his hair. In the afternoon, Wanda grew tired of playing outside and also cried when Wade put her on his tummy to sleep, so they figured they might as well get inside.

While Wade went into the kitchen to cook some noodles for Wanda and them, Peter brought her to the corner where her toys were spread, but again, she just pouted. Peter assumed she had been up early with her mom and even though she’s slept a lot yesterday, she was probably tired from playing outside.

Wade wasn’t a great cook. The pasta was a little mushy, which was perfectly fine for Wanda, who only ate a third of her portion and tossed the rest to the ground, though Peter didn’t like it that much, but with an extra spoon of sauce, it was eatable.

Halfway through his plate, Peter instead focused his attention on Wade, who was pulling faces or making stupid noises for Wanda. She giggled happily, her mouth stuffed with half-eaten pasta, cheeks glowing. She looked so utterly careless and amused that Peter didn’t suppress his own laughter and soon Wade glanced over at him ever so often, eyes sparkling and gaze soft.

They spent much more time at the table than they were actually eating.

Finally fed, Wanda’s spirit was lifted in moments. Shooting noodles over the table, they all laughed together until Wanda fell asleep with her head on the table, half surrounded by squished pasta and smeared sauce. Wade carried her over to her bed in the living room, were she started snoring immediately. She looked so very small in her bed.

They turned off the volume of the TV and took turns in playing through the story mode of the game they’d played the night before. A while later, Wade let Peter play and settled for resting his head on Peter’s lap, ranting about everything and everybody – what he thought would happen next in the story arc and what he thought would be a great plot twist, why he wanted but also didn’t want to be a video game developer and who in school he thought would have what kind of job in the future. Peter started to suspect that Wade was a little obsessed with that question when he smiled up at Peter and mumbled: “And you told me you’re gonna be a scientist when you’re older. Or a photographer.”

Peter smiled and bent down to kiss Wade’s forehead, on the one hand because he didn’t know what to answer, but also because Wade looked way too happy with that thought and it was just too cute not to pamper him with affection. As he hummed in response to the sweet kiss, Peter’s lips trailed down his face until their lips met.

The kiss quickly deepened, making Peter’s skin tingle with joy and anticipation and when he felt Wade’s hand in his hair, caressing him softly, Peter chuckled into the kiss. Wade was quick to join in the little noise, nose tip brushing against Peter’s cheek and warm fingers sneaking under the hem of Peter’s shirt.

Suddenly, Peter’s cheeks felt hot and his guts felt frozen. This touch was different from the one from this morning – braver, challenging. A cold shiver ran over Peter’s back. He chewed at his bottom lip for a second, unsure what to say, but finally settles with his guts.

“Err… Wade... the game…”

For a moment, the dreamy expression lingered on Wade’s face, eyes half closed and lazy smile on his lips, but it quickly dropped after he’d realized what Peter had said, eyebrows raising and mouth opening slightly.

“Oh, yeah…” Pulling his hand back, he nodded “Sorry baby.”

The nickname rolled warmly over Peter, making his heart jump and removing every tiny tension that had gotten into his posture. Rubbing their noses together, he restarted the game, whispering into Wade’s hair.

“Don’t mention it, precious.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Correct me if there's a mistake or anything bothering you.


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm a bad person for letting you all down like that I'm sorry. And again I didn't check this, urgh, I'm horrible.

Since they hadn’t actually been productive that day, they spent the whole evening and most of the night in front of the TV, until Wade’s mom came home around four and looked at them with the strictest glance she could muster while she cradled the laughing Wanda to her chest. Peter smiled apologizing and Wade promised her they’d go to bed soon, but please, wouldn’t she make an excuse – it was their weekend however. In response, she only raised an eyebrow at her son and held up one finger. Peter didn’t know what that meant, but Wade sighed and whispered to Peter that they had to turn off the TV, but he’d make up for it.

Turned out with _make up for it_ , Wade meant snuggle so close on his bed that they had to entwine their legs and Peter could feel each rise and fall of Wade’s chest while they kissed each other until their lips were red and the skin tingled.

He had no reason to complain about that.

He didn’t remember when exactly they fell asleep. They were lying so close that small movements of the one quickly woke the other and those tiny moments on the brick of consciousness felt so surreal – like a mixture of dream and reality. In the middle of the night, when Wade made a growling sound in his sleep, Peter felt so warm and safely wrapped in limbs that he thought he was a new born pup in one basket with its siblings. The thought only lasted for a few seconds before he drifted back to sleep, but the memory stayed until morning, when he and Wade were woken by a knock on the door.

“Boys? ‘S already noon. You wanna get up ‘n help me prepare dinner?”

Blinking at each other and against the light falling into the room, they carefully sat up in bed, unraveling legs and covers slung around them. Wade yawned and Peter stretched his back, before they shared a sheepish smile.

“Isn’t noon a little early for dinner?” Peter asked after he’d cleared his throat and Wade had hugged him back to his chest.

“Yeah, but Sunday’s the day Logan’s coming over to eat with us. His first shift’s pretty early on Mondays, so we moved mealtime a bit so he can join us.”

“Oh.” Peter nodded, but felt a flutter in his stomach at that. So he’d meet Wade’s best friend since forever, practically big brother he’d just heard existed. Great. Great.

_Splendid._

“Boys? You up?” they heard Wade’s mom shout from the kitchen and they got out of bed, grabbing for clothes and Peter ran a hand through Wade’s hair to detangle it at least a bit.

“Comin’ mama!” Wade gave back as they opened the door. Peter was quick to follow him, being greeted by Wanda with a happy squeal as she spotted him behind the stack of drawings she had already produced with the crayons scattered on the kitchen table. He went over to let her pull at his shirt and listen to her still unintelligible babbling.

Wade’s mom was busy greasing a cake-pan. She gave Peter one of her heart-warming smiles when he mumbled a “Morning.”

“Mornin’! Help yourself with breakfast, but don’t eat too much, we’re havin’ dinner at three. When you’re done eatin’ you can help me chop – we’re havin’ stew.”

Peter nodded and Wade already handed him a glass of milk. “Okay, Mi-… Roxy.”

Breakfast was silent and unspectacular with Wade's mom rushing through the room already preparing dinner, so Wade and Peter quickly joined her. As they were told, they helped her chop all different kinds of vegetables she dug from the fridge – probably the leftover few that accumulated in every household and weren’t normally used until somebody threw them away.

They worked in relaxed silence, taking turns with entertaining Wanda who’d gotten bored with drawing quickly after the boys had finished their small breakfast, until the heavy scent of food wafted through the room and made Peter’s mouth water.

Not long after, they heard the doorbell ring and Wade grabbed Peter by his arm, all but dragging him to the door.

Logan was short – like really short. From the distance it seemed he was even shorter than Peter, despite Logan being eight years older, but Peter didn’t plan on stepping any closer to him. He might’ve been short, but he had shoulders and arms like he could easily bend Peter in half and bury him six feet under and not even break a sweat.

His beard and thick eyebrows didn’t help to make him look friendly or anything but somewhat angry.

Peter smiled at him and held out his hand for the other to shake. “Hey, I’m Peter. Wade already told me about you.”

An eyebrow raised on the stern face and Peter felt cold shivers run over his tummy.

“Ne’er heard’a ya,” he grunted and ignored Peter’s hand. Wade laughed and placed his arm around Logan’s shoulders. It was strange how much taller Wade was.

“Don’t mind ol’ gruffy face, that’s all act, you know? Hard shell, soft core and all that!”

Logan’s gaze pierced Peter with an intensity that almost made him shake. _Quite a good act_.

The only thought that eased a little of the uprising tension from his back was that Logan was Wade’s friend. They’d known each other for years. He’d like Peter then, wouldn’t he.

Assuming that, he realized as they started setting the table, Peter had been horribly mistaken.

He didn’t talk to him as much as grunt when he wanted Peter to move out of his way, threw glances and sometimes even piercing stares his way ever so often. When Peter had tried to make small talk, he just got a growl in response, so chatting with him seemed out of question.

At the table, Wade’s mom took the chair on Peter’s left and Wade of course didn’t leave his side and sat on his right. Although Peter was happy to not sit next to Logan, that left them to sit opposite each other. Eating with feeling like he was being watched the entire time didn’t do Peter’s stomach any good and he could hardly enjoy the meal they’d prepared. At least Wade enjoyed himself and happily talked the proverbial mile a minute, not bothered in the slightest by the food occupying his mouth. How he even managed that seemed like a mystery to Peter.

As Wade started making faces to get Wanda to eat at least a bit of her meal before throwing the rest on the ground, Logan’s attention shifted enough to the small girl so Peter could finish his plate and wouldn’t have to make up an excuse about an allergy that left him with less appetite than yesterday.

After dinner, Wade had grabbed all of their plates and balanced them back into the kitchen while his mom carried Wanda around the room in her arms. Peter thought he might just sneak into Wade’s room and wait until Logan would have left and bury his face in Wade’s neck and never come out again, when a hand landed on his shoulder, heavy and sudden.

Peter froze in his movement. If Wade was in the kitchen doing the dishes and Roxy had Wanda, that hand could only belong to- “Uh, Logan, everything alright?”

“Talk t’ya for a sec?”

“Err, sure.” Peter tried to smile, but the expression felt strangely stiff on his features. Logan either didn’t seem to mind or to notice and pulled Peter along to follow him out of the back door. The yard already gleamed orange from the sunset, Peter had half a mind to mind he had to head home soon, when Logan turned him around, usual stern expression on his face. For a moment Peter asked himself what he’d done to earn the punch he surely was about to receive.

Nervously, he gritted his teeth, only mildly reassured as Logan crossed his arms in front of his chest, which somehow made his shoulders even broader. Reassuring indeed.

“’Kay, listen, shorty,” Peter didn’t catch his face quick enough to avoid it from slipping into a confused expression, “’M not one for many words, or any at all, so I’ll make it quick.”

Logan chewed on his tongue for a second, gaze dropping onto the floor and Peter knotted his fingers to keep himself from fumbling with his clothes. The uneasiness the older showed with the situation reminded Peter of Wade in a way.

“Dunno if you know this bu’ Wade’s life’s been a mess for a while. Still is in parts. He doesn’t need extra trouble.”

Something in Peter’s stomach area tensed and he felt like throwing up. Of course Wade’s best friend would deem him to be too much stress for Wade and even if it was only his opinion, Wade wouldn’t be able to ignore his best friend for long and if he had to decide, he would side with Logan and just leave Pe-

“So I guess it’s good to see ‘im so happy ‘round you. He needs that. ‘n’ therefore I like ya, kid.”

A weight seemed to drop off Peter’s shoulders and he felt light all over, like he could float away with the mild breeze dancing around them now. A wide grin tugged at the corners of his mouth.

“Thanks. He makes me really happy too.”

Logan grunted, but slowly Peter suspected that was just his way of reaction to things he didn’t want to talk about.

“’Kay. An’ if I ever find out you jus’ fluttered ya pretty eyelashes at ‘im for fun I’m gonna break ya legs. Got it? Good.”

Not waiting for an answer or any kind of reaction from him, Logan left Peter standing in the yard and went back inside, where he joined Wade in the kitchen.

Logan had a pretty efficient way of getting someone back down to earth.


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This took me an eternity. I am so sorry, my life is a mess at the moment. I feel like I have nothing under control.
> 
> Sorry for making you wait. I feel horrible. I'll beta this tomorrow.
> 
> Happy Valentine's Day.

“You sure about this, baby?”

Peter took a deep breath, before nodding resolutely.

“Yes.”

He saw Wade worrying his bottom lip, his grip on Peter’s hand tightening. In response, Peter stood up on his tiptoes and pressed a soft kiss to Wade’s cheek. _His boyfriend’s cheek_ , a voice in the back of his head whispered and warmth spread in Peter’s chest. 

They had just finished their day at school, other students still ran past them, bags and books and jackets in hands, their shouts and laughter mixing to a cheerful harmony. Peter had asked Wade to walk him home again this morning, though under one condition: He wanted to walk over the school yard hand in hand.

Wade had just shrugged at that, assuring him that, well, if Peter wanted that, of course they could do that, no big deal.

Only that for Peter it very much felt like a big deal. Some of the other students had already figured that Wade and he had become friends, even if that had gotten him a lot of incredible stares. The big difference to the piercing ones he’d caught when he had had the black eye was that now he enjoyed the attention. Every frown or confused expression reminded him that people saw him and Wade together, as a unit – or at least he wanted to think that. It was a much lighter, happier sensation and Peter was grateful for the change. Only that with them walking through public hand in hand rumors might get around quickly. School was draining students’ minds to a point were gossip spread like wild fire in the parched heads and talk about new guy puny Parker and the hunk Wade might burn through school in a flash.

That realization seemed to dawn on Wade as well now.

Peter shot him a reassuring smile and the hint of a grin tugged at the corner of Wade’s mouth as a harsh breeze ruffled the strands that stuck out from his braid.

A shiver ran over Peter’s back and realizing he forgot his jacket in the classroom, he turned on his heels with a groan.

But of course the moment Peter let go of Wade’s hand, his confidence about this idea collapsed like a house of cards.

“Babe, what’s wrong? You changed your mind? You can go first and I can wait for-“

Peter shushed Wade by rolling his eyes. With Wade, most things were much more dramatic than they needed to be for Peter’s taste. “I just forgot my jacket, everything’s fine. Calm down.”

“Oh.” Going from frown to broad grin in record time, Wade straightened his shoulders. “I’ll get it, brbbb!”

He sprinted off right away, so Peter had to shout after him: “What kinda acronym is that?!”

“BE RIGHT BACK BABY-BOY!”

Oh.

Burying his hands in his pockets, Peter watched Wade dash off with a warm, fuzzy feeling spreading in his guts, looking after him even when he'd already entered the building.

“Parker!” a voice behind him said sharply.

Peter’s breath hitched.

His heart might have forgotten how to beat and his blood seemed to freeze immediately.

Slowly, almost like he hoped he’d imagined the voice, Peter turned again. But no such luck. Right in front of him stood Jason, arms crossed, his flying monkeys Juan and Dave right behind him.

“Guess what happened… Over the weekend someone decided to smash my bike! You don’t happen to know who that was?”

Peter gritted his teeth.

“No, no idea, Jason. But eh, maybe it was the Hulk? You know, like HULK SMASH… Did you recycle all your empty cans? I hear he has a thing for the environment.”

He didn’t even get an annoyed eye-roll in response, just silence. Urgh, this was bad.

“You think you’re funny now? Playing mouthy because you got a bodyguard?”

Peter clenched his fists and glared at Jason.

"Fuck you."

Before he could even think about running off or maybe shove Jason away, the older had grabbed his by the front of his shirt and pulled him close. Peter struggled in Jason's hold, wanting to say something, anything really so he’d just knock it off, but three pairs of eyes looked away and at something behind him. Peter didn’t have to turn his head to know who it was.

“Hey Wilson!” Jason shouted, putting his hands onto his hips, maybe to show he wasn’t scarred of him despite his reputation.

Wade closed in on them and glanced between the group and Peter, before giving the greeting back.

“Hey boyyys, how’s it hanging?”

Jason shrugged, oblivious to Wade’s high-pitched voice. Peter was sure he’d mocked anybody else for that kinda thing, but Wade was the bigger fish here and Jason knew that.

He shrugged in response and nodded over to Peter. “Rumor has it you’re wasting your time with Parker. S’up with that?"

Wade practically radiated heat now, but his expression was still calm, he even smiled. "Oh, it's called a relationship. It's like you and your right hand only not so embarrassing to talk about in front of others."

At that, Jason huffed, probably opting for amused but Peter noticed the unease in his posture now. Seeing that pulling Wade on his side wasn't working like he wanted to, he went back to what he knew worked: insulting Peter.

"Didn’t know you kept Parker as your personal fag. Sure he looks like it, but you can never be sure, eh?" He looked over to Peter and it was the single most sickening thing Peter had ever experienced in his life as he suddenly felt naked under that stare. "Could've told me a bit earlier Parker. Might have saved you that black eye."

Peter suddenly felt sick, already tasting bile on the back of his tongue. From the corner of his eye, he saw Wade grit his teeth and heard him growl like an angry dog. Jason’s eyes went wide in surprise, then shock and Peter used the opportunity to twist out of his grasp and turn towards Wade, hands raised to hold him off, but before he could even open his mouth tell him to stop, something crashed with the left side of his face.

Pain bloomed on his cheek and made its way into his head. The impact made him fall to his knees and instinctively, Peter curled in on himself, holding his face where he now felt his pulse throb. The taste of metal spread in his mouth and breathing suddenly hurt as oxygen licked over the cut on the inside of his cheek.

Whimpering, Peter bent over and spit out drool and blood.

Everything was silent around him.

His heartbeat was a much too present sensation, pressure building behind his forehead. He was going to have a headache for sure. The blow had knocked his glasses off his nose and he squinted to force his vision to clear a bit. There still were a lot of feet around him, but nobody seemed to move.

“Fuck, did he just-“

“Shut up. Shut up.”

Peter pushed himself up and felt something graze his knee. Reaching for it, he was relieved to notice it were his glasses. 

He fumbled with putting them onto his nose again, even the bit of weight the glasses put on his skin hurt.

Looking up, Peter saw Wade frozen in place; fist still clenched and outstretched, eyes wide and pupils small. His chest heaved. His lip trembled.

Heat spread in Peter’s stomach, angry and sharp and red. 

He averted his gaze and instead looked at his palms – he had scraped them on the pavement and they felt raw and his pulse throbbed through his skin. Peter looked right through the wounds, sight fogged with unshed tears.

“Peter?”

He’d promised.

“Baby?”

Just three days ago Wade had promised to not do anything stupid. And now he’d gone from vandalism to solve Peter’s ‘problem’ with punching his way out.

Peter felt betrayed; hurt on a very different level than that stupid bruise ponding with pain.

“Bring me home.”

“Baby, that was an-“

“I said bring me home, Wade.”

Somebody whispered in the back, but Peter didn’t care.

He heard Wade shuffle towards him. Two hands grabbed him under his arms and pulled him up. Peter’s gaze was still directed to his feet.

They walked right past Jason, Dave and Juan, Peter could see their feet, and only wondered briefly why they’d finally shut up. But he really couldn’t bring himself to care right now.

He was too angry.

He didn’t register much of their way to Peter’s house either.

Wade was dead silent the whole walk, only stopping to readjust his grip on Peter, which he obviously didn’t want to give up despite the fact that Peter could walk just fine on his own. Even though he felt Wade staring at him the whole time, he kept avoiding his gaze, tension straining his shoulders and jaw.

It didn’t seem to take them as long as usual to get to Peter’s home, but then again Peter might have been imagining that because his thoughts were running a mile per minute and two voices kept arguing in his head: Jason had been disgusting and openly threatening to a point Peter felt like his stomach was filled with ice water and what he had said was so horrible he deserved to be punished. And Wade had tried to protect and avenge him, which might be very understandable, but hadn’t been his place to decide to break his promise and attempt to punch him.

When they arrived at Peter’s house, Wade watched Peter walk up the stairs with a hand clutched to the bannister, his eye still so teary that his spatial perception was a little off. He knew Wade wanted to say something, but Peter just made his way upstairs and to his room after getting a wet cloth from the bathroom, leaving Wade behind in the hallway alone.

Leaning against his doorframe, he could hear Wade walk down towards the living room and Aunt May’s calm voice talk to him, until a whimper and then sobs echoed through the hall. The sounds tore at Peter’s heartstrings and he took a faltering breath, arms tightly crossed in front of his chest.

“He’s so angry at me,” Wade stuttered, voice shaken by hasty little breaths, “I hit him. It was an accident, but I did. And now he hates me.”

More sobs and a whimper, before Aunt May hushed gently and the sound was so tightly woven to her comforting hugs that Peter could clearly picture her embracing Wade.

“There there. I bet there’s a story to this story.”

The sobs continued and Peter bit his lip at the sound.

“He… I swear it wasn’t on purpose, I wasn’t even gonna hit anybody but the one moment and the other and then he was lying there and it’s all my fault-“

Peter had never heard Wade’s voice so strained.

“He hates me. How could he not? He hates me and I love him so much and all I wanted was to protect him…”

He couldn’t stand hearing that and instead, flopped down onto his bed like a dead fish, fresh pain surging through him as he buried his face in the pillow.

This was horrible.

How did everything evolve from perfect day to the worst day?

Kicking the door closed, he curled himself around one of his pillows and tried to concentrate on pressing the wet cloth to the throbbing bruise.

Time passed only slowly and the scene kept replaying in Peter’s brain, whether he closed his eyes or had them open and stared at the wall.

A part of him thought that Wade had been right to in a way try to punish Jason, but every time he came to that conclusion, he felt the pain of that black eye all over again and his cheek started to ache again. Punishing someone by just giving them a taste of their own medicine didn’t work.

Hadn’t Gandhi said ‘ _An eye for an eye will leave everyone blind_ ’?

After what felt like hours but was probably just thirty minutes, he heard a soft knock at his door and as he rolled over, saw Wade peek into his room. His face was blotchy and his eyes red.

“Hey.”

“Hey.”

Wade didn’t say anything anymore. From the corner of his eye Peter saw him stand hunched over, making himself as small as possible.

“How’s your face?”

“A little better…”

Silence again. Wade played with the sleeves off his hoodie, looking down to his feet.

“… Can I come in?”

Peter shrugged.

“Sure.”

At his nod, Wade stepped over the threshold to his room like over mined ground, sitting down on the bed next to Peter hesitantly.

“I heard you talking to my aunt.”

“Yeah, she…” he took a shaky breath and twirled the cord of his hood around his fingers, avoiding Peter’s gaze, “She asked me what was wrong and I… I told her.”

“About-“

“Everything. Sorry.”

Sighing, Peter shook his head “It’s fine. I think she already knew something was off. It’s probably for the best.”

“Oh.”

Wade nodded and fell silent again. It felt heavy around them, uncomfortable and way too charged with the unspoken.

How did things get so bad so quickly? They’d been so happy just this morning – hell, just two hours ago. And now Peter was so disappointed by Wade that he couldn't bring himself to think of any way out of his situation. A voice in the back of his mind told him that he wasn't responsible for what happened and that if t was Wade's fault, it was his job to make up for what he did. But that thought was selfish.

Still, Wade deserved to know how betrayed Peter felt.

He had promised. That was a fact.

You don't just break promises you gave your new boyfriend just a few days ago. You didn't just make your boyfriend feel weak and like he can only be protected by others, not himself.

Somehow he wished he could just undo all of it and jump back to that happy little bubble from this morning, but reality was ugly.

After Wade had silently watched Peter's inner struggle, he took a deep breath, eyes watering all over again.

“Peter, I swear it was an accident.”

“I know.”

“I’d never, ever hurt you.”

“I know…”

Wade worried his bottom lip, wringing his hands almost violently now.

“Baby cakes, please I-“

But Peter put up his hand, silencing Wade with the simple gesture. SÄTZE “You can call me pet names all you want but it won’t make this any better.”

Wade hunched over, burying his face in his hands again. Sobs shook him and Peter looked away, arms crossed in front of his chest.

“I really didn’t mean to punch you, please believe me, please, please…”

“That is not what this is about,” Peter huffed, frustrated by Wade’s ignorance, but at the same time feeling horrible to ignore his distress. “This is about you trying to deal with something I asked you to leave to me. I explicitly told you I don’t want you to get involved in the trouble I have with Jason. But you did nonetheless and tried to hurt! Don’t you- Don’t you see that what you did is exactly the same thing they were doing to me?”

“Your solution is no solution at all.”

No response. Wade just sat there, frogging the cord with his fingers and looking at nothing. Peter sighed and stepped closer, eyes fixed at his shoes.

“Wade-“

“They hurt you,” Wade whispered, pulling at the threads coming loose, “All that stuff they said about you. You don’t deserve that. You’re the first person spending actual time with me and you're so… everything. You were so happy before and I couldn’t stand seeing you suddenly so disappointed with everything.”

Peter took a deep breath, directing his gaze to the ceiling. Yes, he didn't deserve to be called anyx of this. Yes, this was horribly unfair and Jason and his friends were disgusting. But what Wade had done was no answer - couldn't be an answer. 

“Can you leave now? I don’t think this take us anywhere right now.”

“But… Petey, I love you.”

“Yeah and I’m mad at you. Please, give me some time to think about this.”

He heard Wade get up and shuffle with his feet behind Peter for a few moments. Peter imagined him waiting for Peter to change his mind or think about kissing him goodbye. His heart fluttered at the thought.

“… Bye babe.”

“Bye.”

Steps on carpet, then on floorboards and down the floor. Suddenly, the room felt cold. Peter’s stomach turned and he felt the need to bury himself in a thick pullover.


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so sorry for the delay. I just... so many things. I had to rewrite it several times, I got a very complicated but wonderful relationship and... life happened. So much of it. I am so unbelievably grateful that you guys stuck with me and now read the end of my baby - I hope you enjoy it as much as I did.
> 
> As always, I'm posting in the middle of the night and I'm dead tired, so if there are any mistakes or you fell like there's somehting missing in the continuation, let me know.

The rest of the day went by in a strange blur of horribly outstretched second and compressed hours; Peter felt like he wasn’t actually in his body, but witnessing himself throughout the evening navigating on autopilot.

Aunt May had a talk with him at the dinner table – like Peter had concluded from what he heard Wade say, he had spilled the beans and told his aunt that he had problems in school. Peter fell silent after she mentioned the word “bullying” for the first time and nodded at what she said, mentally torn. In the end, they came to the conclusion that she’d call school about the situation and ask them for help.

As a result, Peter had an appointment with the principal the next morning.

The night had probably been the longest one he ever had to suffer through – tossing and turning in the sheets, the scent of Wade still hanging on his worn clothes on his chair. When he arrived at the principal’s office, sleep-deprived and with dark circles under his eyes, a tall blond greeted him with a warm smile. The senior had his arms crossed behind his back, his stance straight, blue eyes sparkling happily. He held the door open for Peter, murmuring a “Mornin’” before he followed him inside. The principal had introduced him as Steve Rogers, student counselor. He had volunteered to have an eye on Peter, spent some time with him so his bullies (Peter had insisted on not giving away their names) wouldn’t bother him on school grounds anymore.

The first thing Peter had said was that he then only had to worry about his way home.

The first thing Steve had said was he’d be happy to walk him, if that was what Peter wanted.

They had shaken hands and Peter had whispered “Yes, please.”

During lunch break, Steve sat next to Peter, chewing on an apple and somehow managing to still seem concerned and open.

Even though the principal had given Steve an explanation on what had happened to Peter, he still expected him to ask a lot of questions Peter didn’t really want to answer. He didn’t want to live through humiliating memories of what exactly had been done to him or how he felt or what he thought was the problem or-

“Hey buddy, may I ask where’d you get that black I from?”

_Okay, new plan, answer any question beside that._

“I don’t wanna be nosy… just – I’m a little surprised someone would leave evidence that obvious.”

“Haha… yeah…” Peter giggled nervously, shifting on his chair. “I… It was a friend, but… it was an accident.”

Chewing on the piece of apple in his mouth, Steve raised an eyebrow at Peter. “An accident?”

“Well, actually,” Peter backpedaled quickly, realizing what kind of image that put in Steve’s mind, “it was a friend’s friend and yes, an accident! Not like in an accident that I assume was an accident and he promised me it will never happen again, it was an actual accident.”

He ignored the slightly puzzled expression on Steve’s face, nodding some courage into himself because now it seemed like a barrier had been broken and the flood of what had troubled Peter the whole night drowned his restraints. “And that friend of a friend is not his friend but his boyfriend and we- I mean they are probably a couple but only for a few days but they like each other a lot, at least the friend likes the friend’s friend but he just doesn’t understand he can’t go around punching people even if it’s for me, err, my friend because that’s just not the way you solve your freakin’ problems but no of course he has to go with his guts and not stop and think for a freaking second I mean-“

A warm, big hand landed on his shoulder and for a moment Peter’s breath got stuck in his lungs when it felt awfully familiar with Wade’s cautious touches, until he realized it was just Steve trying to calm him down.

“So… It was your boyfriend.”

Peter didn’t know he could blush that fast.

“That obvious?”

Smiling apologetically, Steve nodded and patted him, before leaning in a little. 

“So… What happened?”

Taking a deep breath and closing his eyes for a moment, Peter sank deeper into his chair. Where to start?

He still didn’t want to give any more information about who his tormentors were, Peter thought he’d already given away enough about Jason and his friends. Maybe the start of his… friendship with Wade, though it had never been a friendship in that sense. And it seemed way too personal, too precious to just share with Steve. Instead, he decided to be as vague as possible.

“I got in his way when he wanted to protect me from… _them_.”

Steve straightened himself a bit, folding his hands. “Protect you, hm?”

“Well, he hurt one of them even though I previously told him I don’t want him to interfere.”

A chuckle, then Steve raised his eyebrows. “Now that’s interesting.”

Peter looked puzzled. “What exactly?”

“Well, first the word you use is _protect_ , then you say he _hurt_. I don’t wanna judge just… you see how you basically told me two different things?”

“Oh,” Peter elaborated.

“I don’t mean to get too close, it’s your life, don’t get me wrong, just… You seem kinda torn, buddy.”

Torn.

Torn.

_My maybe-but-probably-not-anymore-boyfriend punched the guy who wanted to punch me which I told him not to do especially after he already committed an act of vandalism against that guy but he is my only friend and also I think I’m fucking in love with him and he’s so much prettier than I deserve my boyfriend to be and I miss his smell on my shirts and I just wanna hug him really tight and cry and-_

“Torn is probably right.” Peter rubbed his left temple, forcing the unstoppable rush of worries and thoughts into the back of his mind. “It’s… I just like that guy. I like him so much. But he punched that guy even though I told him violence is no solution.”

“It isn’t,” Steve affirmed, “Violence is never the solution. But sometimes one has to defend oneself or someone they care a lot about.” He paused, his gaze somehow softening, feeling less piercing than before “Do you think he cares a lot about you?”

Hearing these words, Peter smiled. It didn’t take much to summon the feeling of Wade’s warm hands on his back; his sometimes amazed gaze when he looked at Peter. The image of Wade under his window bubbled up, of Wade patching him up and almost carrying him home when he was hurt, Wade cradling close on the couch, Wade feeling bad when Peter got mad about the bike, Wade – Wade not being at school today. 

“Of course I do. He wouldn’t have tried to protect me if he didn’t.”

The encouraging smile Steve wore softened around the edges, making him look almost happy for Peter. “If you say he wanted to protect you, it doesn’t sound like he had much of an alternative than resort to physical force.”

“And still he did it even though he promised me he would not use _physical force_.”

“So it’s the broken promise you are upset about?”

“No,” Peter mumbled and even he heard the pout in that single word,” Just- I want him to listen to me. I want him to really understand that this is wrong. I know he would never hurt me, but what about someone else? If he’s willing to hurt another kid, why make me the exception just because he happens to like me? Doesn’t he see that… He’s forcing on others what I have to go through even though he sees how I suffer!”

“Wow-“ Steve gave back, holding up his hands to slow Peter down a bit, “Okay, you’re opening up a _lot_ of different things here. What I hear is: That guy you like is bullying other kids. No-go, totally understand that. You seem to have asked him to refrain from that, seeing you as the example what the other side of bullying looks like. Good move. But what you told me what upset you doesn’t sound like that. You said he protected you, but he did so by punching you accidentally?”

Steve sounded a little unsure summing that up and Peter knew the story was a little crazy, but he nodded nonetheless, crossing his arms, slumping down the tiniest bit.

“Okay, so, these are two different things. I haven’t been there and I’m just trying to figure out things as I’m listening to you, but… when he wanted to help you, he probably had a point.”

“You think?”

“Yeah, actually I do. I don’t know what I’d do if someone I loved was getting hurt. Do you?”

Peter grumbled. But he couldn’t argue that Steve was right here – he wouldn’t know what he’d do if it was the other way around. Or if someone hurt Harry, or his family. The thought alone made his bile boil.

“I kind of see your point, Peter. But honestly, you seem pretty upset yourself – you should talk to them.

That earned Steve a huff. “Easier said than done.”

“I know… but that’s the way it works: with a lot of effort and overcoming worries and putting yourself in front of the other plainly visible.”

Excusingly, Steve twisted his mouth and suddenly, he looked much older and wearier than before.

“Love is freaking hard,” he continued with a deep sigh that shook his impressive frame. “Hear it from someone who knows.”

Peter raised an eyebrow, feeling a little uncomfortable as he formed his next question, worrying it was a little too private. “You have a complicated relationship too?”

“Yeah…” Steve shrugged, looking over his shoulder to a table a little behind them, where two dark-haired teens Steve’s age sat across each other holding hands. One of them looked up and smiled at Steve, who grinned and quickly averted his gaze. “Kind of complicated…”

Peter’s gaze shifted from Steve to the two and back, a little puzzled, but he decided it was probably not his place to ask. He watched his sandwich waiting peacefully in its wrapper, until Steve’s calm voice startled him to attention.

“Talk to him. Tell him. Let him in. It’s always the key. Be honest. If he likes you that much he deserves that.”

Peter sighed and the wrapper flapped a little in result. “Okay… guess you’re right.”

“I guess so too,” Steve smiled, so encouraging that Peter could not help but give it back.

~

The bell rang, signalizing the end of yet another school day and Peter grabbed the straps of his backpack a little tighter. Just as Steve had promised, he’d walked Peter home yesterday and even met him on his way today, sipping tea from a travel mug.

Walking with Steve was easy – he happily shared how track training had been and that he’d gone to the mall afterwards and Peter imagined him with his two friends from yesterday’s lunch break.

Besides, when Steve did the talking, Peter had time to go through everything Steve had told him yesterday again – not that he hadn’t done that already; several times while having dinner, doing his chores and homework, showering, brushing his teeth and cuddled in in his nest of blankets and duvets on the brink of sleep. But when the school grounds came into view and one specific blond head, peaking out a little from the crowd surrounding him, caught Peter’s attention, somewhere in the back of his mind the die was cast. He heard Steve stop talking when Peter’s expression got determined.

A gentle punch on his arm made him look up to him.

“Ready to go?”

Taking a deep breath, Peter nodded. “Ready.”

~

Despite his resolute decision, it took him the whole day to work up the courage to talk to Wade. Only at the end of the day he waited for him outside the gate, clutching at the straps of his backpack until he spotted Wade, face hid in the big hood. Straightening his shoulders, he positioned himself in Wade’s way, trying to seem much more assured than he actually felt.

“Hey”

“Oh… hey,” Wade gave back with a hoarse voice. Up close, Peter noticed his eyes looked red and puffy and his hoodie was extra large today, hanging from his frame more like a bag than actual clothing, covering most of his bulky body. His fingers worried the fabric of his sleeves; he didn’t look at Peter.

That hurt.

“You… missed school yesterday?”

A nod. “Wasn’t feeling well.”

The question on Peter’s tongue – was it because of me - felt too heavy to utter it, he felt like he already knew the answer anyway. He cleared his throat, more to break the awkward silence that enveloped them since Wade had spoken.

“Can I… can we talk? Just a second.”

Wade twitched at the words like he had been stung, but closed his eyes, nodding with resignation written on his features, seemingly holding his breath. Peter looked around them and grabbed Wade’s sleeve to pull him to the fence separating school grounds from the basketball field. He took a deep breath and remembering Steve’s words, he muttered “I’m really sorry.”

Whatever Wade had expected; he was surprised now. His eyes, swimming in tears how Peter noticed now, were wide and unbelieving.

“Wha- Huh?”

“I’m sorry. I spoke to the student counselor and he said I didn’t give you time to adjust to my wishes and rules and I think he’s right.” Peter took Wade’s hand and peeled the thick fabric of the sleeve of his fingers and laced them with his, feeling how cold they were. “I still believe what you did was wrong but you wanted to protect me. And that’s the right thing to do – we’ll work through the rest.”

Peter paused for a moment, then pulled Wade’s hand against his chest, looking down to see the fingers splayed over his shirt and at his next words dig into it a tiny bit. “Do you forgive me?”

A heavy intake of breath. A sob. Then an immense pressure on Peter’s chest as Wade pulled him way too close; hugging him and stealing his breath in the most literal sense. It was rough and almost bruising, Wade’s face pressed into the crook of Peter’s neck and Peter’s feet dangling a bit over the ground, but it was exactly enough to stop his heart from aching.

“Nothing to be sorry about. Was my fault.”

He shook his head and brought a little space between them. “I don’t wanna hear it. I made my point. I think you got my point. I … reacted in a panic and I am sorry.” A strangled huff escaped him and he closed his eyes, just to be wrapped in Wade’s arms again, have the side of his face peppered with kisses.

“I love you, Petey.”

A blush made its way over Peter’s cheeks and a grin forced its way onto his lips. “I know.”

Wade chuckled and gently punched against his shoulder. “Worst answer ever.”

“Please, Star Wars reference. That’s not bad, it’s a classic.”

“M-hm.” Wade rolled his eyes. “And in which universe are you Han Solo while I’m Leia?”

Peter chuckled, raising an eyebrow and looked up at Wade with a flirty wink.

“You mean: when am I ever not?”

“Oh-oh-oh!” Wade grinned and let his hands slide from Peter’s back down to his butt, gripping at the muscle there, “Touché, Mister Solo.”

Clicking his tongue, Peter stood up on his tippy toes. His and Wade’s lips met half-way.

~

Peter had invited Wade to his house and they made their way in happy silence, holding hands on their way, their shoes making little swooshing sounds on the sidewalk.

He only called a quick greeting towards the living room, mentioning Wade’s presence like yesterday didn’t happen, before pulling Wade up the stairs and to his room before Wade could join him or make an attempt to greet Peter’s aunt.

Upstairs, with the door closed, Wade pulled him close and kissed him, unbelievably gentle, but so urgent, almost desperate. Peter chuckled and ran his hand through Wade’s blond hair, the licorice-like smell enveloping him in a thick, warm wave.

Holding each other close, Peter pushed Wade backwards until his knee pits hit the bed and Wade tumbled gracelessly onto the mattress, pulling Peter with him. 

Giggling, Peter caught himself propped onto Wade’s shoulders, one leg between Wade’s knees. The sight made Peter’s mouth feel dry and he tried to swallow past the sudden warmth spreading over his skin and after looking at Wade’s face and seeing the same excitement mirrored there, he moved to straddle Wade’s lap.

“Hey”

“Hey”

They chuckled in synch and leaned in to reassume their kiss, hands grasping at each other, chests pressed flat, noses brushing.

The warmth on Peter’s skin changed, became much more sparkling and after Wade possessively wrapped his arms around Peter’s hip, concentrated in his stomach as heat.

He pulled off his shirt, a blush spreading on his cheeks the moment his face was hidden behind the fabric, but Wade’s amazed gaze wandering over his chest to his eyes melted even the last small concerns into a gooey heat in his abdomen.

Their mouths found each other again, but this time their kiss was a little more urgent, an underlying hunger making them suck on each others’ lips, panting slightly whenever they parted for the shortest of moments.

He felt Wade’s fingertips skim over the waistband of his jeans. A tingling sensation ran up and down his spine and Peter made an involuntary, small sound, at which Wade looked up at him, pulling his hands back quickly.

“Sorry, I was just so in it, I forgot-“

Peter grabbed for Wade’s wrists and put them back where they’d been a second ago, shaking his head, shoving his fingers a little into the waistband.

“Take it off. I want you to touch me.”

At least Wade blushed as fast as Peter, which made him giggle, before kissing Wade’s forehead.

“You… you sure, baby?”

Peter could hardly contain the broad grin now showing on his face and when he bent down a bit to whisper into Wade’s ear, he intentionally rubbed his crotch against Wade’s.

“Do you really wanna make me beg for more?”

Immediately, Wade froze, his eyes widening as his pupils the size of a pin, before hasty and almost uncoordinated gestures shook his body. He tried to open the button on Peter’s jeans with the one hand while pulling down the zipper with the other, tilting his pelvis so Peter slid from his lap and onto the mattress. A small, excited gasp came over Peter’s lips and he lifted his hips so Wade could pull down his jeans to his knees, before covering his body with his own again. Everything was grinding movements and touches after that, heated pants shared between them, tiny kisses and love bites spread over their necks and collar bones.

As Wade put his lips over Peter’s nipple and gently licked over it, Peter’s eyes rolled up and he openly moaned, giving Wade the courage to put his hands on Peter’s naked thighs, sliding his palms up until his fingers tickled under the fabric of Peter’s boxers, making him shiver “Wade, plea-“

“Boys! Dinner!”

An icy cold wave washed over Peter’s back and an exasperated groan came from Wade, before his forehead fell against Peter’s chest.

“We should go down there.”

“I know,” another groan. “I was just… really into… _that_!” He gestured between them and sighed. “Damn.”

In response, Peter nodded and gave a gentle kiss on his head.

“Me too… Let’s go.”

~

Standing up was a task itself. Their limbs seemed so tangled that Peter almost thought of them as woven together, but somehow they managed to unravel and put on their clothes in a somewhat coordinated manner.

They combed their fingers through each other’s hair to smooth it down a bit and then made their way down the stairs into the kitchen. Aunt May smiled at them and thankfully she didn’t seem to notice the a little too absent smile on Wade’s face.

Thankfully, they made it through dinner rather quickly without bolting down their food – only when Peter’s hand more or less accidentally brushed along the side of Wade’s thigh he jumped a bit, but quickly lied that he’d bitten his tongue.

Afterwards, Wade helped Aunt May load the dish washer and Peter cleaned the kitchen table while they were busy. When Aunt May prepared a plate for Uncle Ben to store in the oven and put away the leftovers, Peter looked over Wade’s shoulder, raising an eyebrow temptingly.

“Wanna go outside?” he whispered.

Wade’s gaze flickered over Peter’s shoulder, the already dark backyard silently luring.

“Sure.”

The grin on Wade’s face was a bit mischievously and Peter quickly gripped his hand to drag him through the living room and out the backdoor.

The cold night air hit them as they exited the house, wrapping them in shivers and goose bumps before they quickly enveloped each other in their arms, their gazes simultaneously wandering from each other up to the dark sky.

“The stars are really beautiful tonight.”

Wade grinned, nudging the tip of his nose against Peter’s cheek. “Reminds me of someone.”

“Oh, stop that,” Peter giggled, averting his eyes for a moment to glance at Wade, before nudging back “Hey… You ever wonder what you’re life’ll be like?”

Wade raised an eyebrow, pulling Peter closer so they could sit on the cool grass together, both jittering a bit. “What makes you think of that?”

In response, Peter shrugged his shoulders. “Just… the stars I guess. You know when you get that feeling you’re so small and suddenly you ask yourself whether you will matter for something… big.”

A chuckle resounded from Wade. “Well, I don’t know whether you consider this big, but you at least matter for me.”

“Flatterer,” Peter breathed, holding Wade close to keep the cold from sneaking between them. Looking at his blue eyes full of silent contentment, he kissed the bridge of his nose, “So I guess you don’t mind if I spent my life with you while I try to make it something big?” 

“I can almost see that,” Wade grinned, looking up to the dark sky, where stars started to twinkle. When Wade raised his hand to align the shimmering lights with his fingertips, Peter smiled and mirrored the gesture “You going to college like all the smart kids do. Becoming a scientist. Or a photographer… Can you study photography?”

Peter nodded at the question, slowly, as his mind spun around Wade’s words.

“Wade… How come you always ask me what I wanna be when I’m older?”

A shrug, with a mumbled “ _Hmmdunno_ ”

Peter looked turned his head towards Wade, letting his gaze rest on the side of his face, that was still fixed on the night sky with an almost stubborn interest. Something suddenly felt off.

“Wade… what do you want to be when you’re grown up?”

Wade noticeably hesitated before pressing his face to Peter’s hair, inhaling deeply. “You won’t laugh, will you?”

“No… No, I’d never.” 

“I… I wanna be a superhero.”

As soon as the words had left his lips, Peter felt Wade tensing, his back and neck stiff and his arms wrapping a little tighter around Peter, like he was afraid he’d push away any moment.

“Not so I get to punch people!” he was quick to add, murmuring against his cheek without looking at Peter, “But like helpin’ folks. So… someday people might look up to me.”

Peter’s heart skipped a beat at that and the warmth centered in his chest spread over his torso and neck, until he felt 

Snuggling closer, he smiled happily and wrapped his arms around Wade’s shoulder, feeling him melt against his body.

To him, Peter thought, Wade already was.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for everything. This is the end. Which, by the way, was the first thing I had in mind for this.  
> I love all of you who read, kudo-ed and commented, my loyal subscribers keeping me motivated to bring this to it's deserved ending.
> 
> My tumblr is [Schierlingsbecher](http://schierlingsbecher.tumblr.com/) if you wanna chat or follow me <3
> 
> Also, feedback is always much appreciated ♥
> 
> Thank you for reading ♥
> 
> That's it! Thank you so much! All my love!♥

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading ♥


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